"And...?" Pounce, Whitewolf thought, replying an image of her first freshkill in her mind. It had been a bird. Shaking her head, she concentraited on her apprentice.
First Apprentice [private]
- silk
- Closed
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Burblepaw sprang forward, neatly pinning a leaf under her paw. She turned to her mentor, a slight smile on her face.
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"Exellent," Whitewolf praised, grinning at her apprentice, "Now, want to try it with real prey?" Lets see what she can do on real, living prey, rather than on a leaf that can only run away on the breeze. It was cold, and most of the prey was probably hiding in their own nests, but it was worth a try.
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Burblepaw suppressed a shiver and nodded. Her teeth were chattering like frightened, cold mice.
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"Good," Whitewolf told her, ignoring the cold breeze that swam through her fur at the moment, "Can you scent anything?"
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"Erm...snow," Burblepaw replied, continuing to chatter. "And a hint of...other cats."
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Sniffing the breeze, Whitewolf nodded again. "Any prey?" She tasted the air. A hint of fox, but it was atleast a day old and stale. Mouse, but that was also stale, and vole, too, more recent.
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"I don't smell anything," Burblepaw replied, her head angling toward her mentor. The spotted she-cat's ears flattened. "Fox, maybe."
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"Try harder," Whitewolf instructed, "I smell mouse and vole, though both are somewhat stale, the fox scent is older."
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The savannah nodded, opening her mouth. She detected a faint hint of mouse as well as a vole. "I can smell it," she hissed softly.
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"Good," Whitewolf praised, her own voice lowering to match Burblepaw's, "Can you tell which was it went?"
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Burblepaw sniffed a bit more, and her head cocked to the right. "That way?" she replied, more of a question than an answer.
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Whitewolf nodded. "Now how about we try to track it?" she asked, makign it more of a suggestion than an order.
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"The vole?" Burblepaw asked, crouching down onto her haunches.
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Whitewolf nodded. "Whichever one was freshest," she said, "But yes, the vole."
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Burblepaw licked her mouth, opening it slightly. Her stomach gave a plaintive rumble.
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"After we track it for a little," Whitewolf whisphered, "We can go back and be done for the day." She smiled at the apprentice, flicking her tail in the direction the scent trail went.
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The savannah nodded gratefully. Slowly, she placed one paw before her other, and followed the scent.
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"Where does it lead?" Whitewolf asked, seemlingly curious. She wanted to make sure the apprentice was following her nose, instead of her mentor. The white cat wasn't infront of her, of course, but she hadn't stopped to tell the apprentice she was wrong, even if she was.
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"Toward...there," Burblepaw replied, gesturing with a flick of her head. She hoped that she was right.