Post by bits on Jun 17, 2019 4:26:28 GMT
Bear was not a chatty cat.
She was reserved, but not isolating. She would attend gatherings and wouldn't necessarily stray from the eyes and presences of others. But she was a listener - she liked to observe with her bright blue eyes, she liked to listen to stories and hear not only the words but the tones and the implications. The waver of a voice here, the twitch of an ear there - the subtle cues could tell you what someone's impressions were, especially when you cared enough to watch and listen and remember. She didn't have too many opinions that she expressed to others. Her mentor, Blackmoon, was one of the very few people she tended to confide in, and even then it was with a thoughtful mind and carefully planned words.
She was, in short, a very precise creature. Sparring never seemed to be her style, her body and persona lending success to her hunting. And hunt, she did.
Only eight moons of age yet, she had much more to learn when it came to carrying her own weight. Her caution didn't always aid her in her training, but she approached it with the same reverence she tended to approach all aspects of her life. It was what brought her out to the Simida Woods, in the quiet of the dawn hours. She wasn't actively hunting, but she was in a quiet crouch, still as the stones scattered here and there through the woods. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of her chest and the purposeful swivel of her ears. She was listening - trying to predict when a bird would move and where, trying to combine scent and sight and sound to strategise. No, she wasn't hunting, but she was trying to hone aspects of hunting. If she could track prey and stay still and quiet enough such that the creatures around her started to forget her presence, she would be able to apply those skills in the future.
So the apprentice had been crouching in the forest for some time, doing her best to ignore the burn in her limbs as she kept her eyes upwards.
She was reserved, but not isolating. She would attend gatherings and wouldn't necessarily stray from the eyes and presences of others. But she was a listener - she liked to observe with her bright blue eyes, she liked to listen to stories and hear not only the words but the tones and the implications. The waver of a voice here, the twitch of an ear there - the subtle cues could tell you what someone's impressions were, especially when you cared enough to watch and listen and remember. She didn't have too many opinions that she expressed to others. Her mentor, Blackmoon, was one of the very few people she tended to confide in, and even then it was with a thoughtful mind and carefully planned words.
She was, in short, a very precise creature. Sparring never seemed to be her style, her body and persona lending success to her hunting. And hunt, she did.
Only eight moons of age yet, she had much more to learn when it came to carrying her own weight. Her caution didn't always aid her in her training, but she approached it with the same reverence she tended to approach all aspects of her life. It was what brought her out to the Simida Woods, in the quiet of the dawn hours. She wasn't actively hunting, but she was in a quiet crouch, still as the stones scattered here and there through the woods. The only movement was the slow rise and fall of her chest and the purposeful swivel of her ears. She was listening - trying to predict when a bird would move and where, trying to combine scent and sight and sound to strategise. No, she wasn't hunting, but she was trying to hone aspects of hunting. If she could track prey and stay still and quiet enough such that the creatures around her started to forget her presence, she would be able to apply those skills in the future.
So the apprentice had been crouching in the forest for some time, doing her best to ignore the burn in her limbs as she kept her eyes upwards.
