You're gross and I hate you

[bits]

She was late.

She wasn't terribly late, but she was just late enough to communicate her lack of concern for this whole apprenticeship thing. Or, it could have been something else - an argument, some trouble with others perhaps. It didn't matter particularly to the odd apprentice, who made her way to the agreed-upon meeting place with a bit of wariness clinging to her. She wasn't sure about this whole 'mentor' thing - she didn't bother cleaning the muck off of her, instead playing with the spot left by her missing tooth.

She had showed up, at least.

The multicoloured feline let her eyes scan her surroundings, a residual bitterness simmering in her eyes. It wasn't unusual for the child, given her default setting of I'm not here for anyone but myself, but it wasn't so much a result of disrespect towards her new mentor. She just didn't care for meeting the expectations of others. Why? What was the point? She was supposed to become a loyal warrior for a clan she had no emotional investment in. Whatever. She had shown up, at least.

[Miss Tactical]

Eveningblaze had been sitting in the meadows, mud caked to his fur from a recent spar with Darkstorm. He had to admit that in a few more moons he would be even stronger than he. There was some pride there. A formidle warrior who was deputy material. His tail lashed back and forth as his newest apprentice whom he had given to himself was late. He had heard the young feline had always caused a ruckus in the nursery, a bit less than Stormwatchers kits but a ruckus nonetheless. With a slight snort he scented the she-cat before she even came into view, a nonchalant look presented on her features as if she didn’t really care that she was here. That would change.

”How do you expect to become a warrior if you can’t even show up on time hmmm?” His tone was mellow (surprisingly) but still a tartness to it. He wasn’t impressed thus far with her work ethic that would certainly have to change. ”Darkstorm was late once. So I threw quite a large rock at him.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue before getting to his paws. He gave them a quick shake sending the mud off before walking towards dryer land and IvyCLans borders. He supposed he would be easy just this one time. ”Don’t be late again, if you even contemplate it I suggest you ask Darkstorm how that always worked out for him. Now let’s go.”

With fast paws he moved towards IvyClans border, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure she was even still there. It didn’t seem like she even wanted to bother with training. He certainly made a mental note, and if the behavior continued he didn’t mind putting in a word for a delayed ceremony. He would keep her an apprentice until 20 moons old if he had to. ”What do you smell.” He mewed. He gave a slight snort as the scent of a recent IvyClan patrol hit his nose. He would have to remark his EXTENDED territory line. Pushing back was not allowed.

[bits]

At least Sootpaw wasn't known for being particularly chatty. She wasn't known for back-talking or snarking at her elders, but she still tended to get into trouble for her behaviour. Whether it was telling a peer in her monotone that she didn't care about their preferences or because she had made a mess somewhere she just... tended to be trouble incarnate. Maybe it was a result of stunted social development, or maybe it was the natural development of such a child as Sootpaw. She listened to the scolding from her mentor, orange-tipped ear flicking to the side as she considered snarking back and quashed the desire. Instead, she shrugged at the question about becoming a warrior, especially given her lack of care when it came to being a 'proper warrior'. Why? What did it matter? 

Still, she followed, staying a few paces behind her mentor. She was looking to and fro, trying to remember the layout of their territory. Eventually, she stumbled to a stop, half-glaring at her mentor as he asked her to scent the air. 

It was air. Surprise. There was the smell of Newleaf, green plants and vegetation. But there was another scent - of something a bit rockier, more dirt-like than the dry-grass scent that she had come to associate with her clan. She took a while to answer, obviously putting thought into her observations. At least the quiet, disrespectful child was observant.

"Mm. Newleaf. Plants. Mothclan. Cats that smell more like rocks. Dunno that one."


She'd be down to live amongst rocks and mud though.