[ti]Private[/ti]this was probably a mistake

[bits]

Rookshade did not want an apprentice. 

He wasn't good with the youth these days, and he'd never been smooth in social interactions. Between his own, parental-based training and his youth of being more or less isolated, he'd grown up to be more than a little rough around the edges. A little sharp, a little difficult - isolated still, though now by choice. Anyways, the point was that he didn't want an apprentice and he was pretty sure it was irresponsible to give him one. Didn't the majority of the clan see him as a lazy, irresponsible good-for-nothing anyways? He worked hard for that aesthetic.

(He did his best not to remember nightly training, falling asleep with his mentor because he'd spent the last half a day running through drills with his family. He tried to push down the memories of bruises and sores from too-harsh training, the bitterness that rivaled the ache he felt. Rebellion in the form of irresponsibility, the phantom pain of a life he didn't ask for.)

Anyways, he shouldn't have an apprentice. That being said, he wasn't going to make the same mistakes he'd seen in the past - he was self-destructive, not generally destructive. 

"Hey. You. Let's go."

The perfect way to greet his new apprentice, the black tom flicked his crooked tail towards the camp entrance and headed that way, not bothering to spare a glance to see if the younger clanner was following.

[LupTacco]

Leaning on the cool rocks to diffuse the warmth in his pelt he'd been collecting as he sat in the sun that morning, Mothpaw was busying himself with attempts to figure out which stance was most intimidating. Of course, being only about halfway grown and more scruffy than scary, he just kind of came off as silly, but he didn't know that. Lifting his nose in the air as a warrior passed him by, his narrowed pale orange eyes shot open as the cat addressed him- oh yeah, Rookshade. "Whatever, oldtimer," he scoffed, flicking his tail dismissively before shrugging to himself and pretending it was his idea to go along. Scrunching his nose up in what he thought was an 'aloof' expression, Mothpaw closed his eyes and trotted forward- and promptly tripped on a rock.

"Oohf-" Mothpaw landed on his chin, scrambling up to his paws and batting the stone into the water in a burst of anger. Nodded at the splunk sound it made as it sunk into the river, he looked back at Rookshade with a blank expression, daring him to say something. "Well? Am I gonna learn something this time?"

[bits]

Oldtimer

"Wow, I'm hurt Mothpaw. Look at me, I'm hurt. You've injured my poor little heart. I'm weeping. On the inside."

Rookshade delivered his monologue completely blank-faced, all sarcasm and dry humour instead of actually caring what his apprentice had to say about him. What? Did Mothpaw think he was going to actually care about his sass? Rookshade invented sass - it was his outlet as an apprentice and it was part of who he was now. So the warrior watched, mildly amused, as his apprentice took a dive over a rock. Smooth.

Well? Am I gonna learn something this time?

"Sure, wanna start with learning how to look where you're going? Or do we wanna skip that part?"

He grinned, pleased with himself - he didn't much care if his apprentice liked him or not. That wasn't his job. His job was to try and get rid of the little devil as soon as possible. Apparently by "training" him. Gross.

"Nah, let's uh... let's teach you a hunting crouch. Why don't you show me how you think you'd crouch."

It was better than fighting, after all. Rookshade... wasn't sure how well he'd handle teaching this kid to fight. Maybe he'd pass that off to someone else. His paws got itchy thinking about it.