Post by Zesha on Jun 19, 2022 14:13:47 GMT
I'm going to start trying to write a little bit each day, with a minimum of 500 words. I've been feeling so out of it recently with my depression and I haven't written like... at all in a while because of it. So I figured I might share what I wrote today, since it's of my character on here Galepaw. And if anyone wants to join in and write every day with me, that'd be great! But, without further adieu...
The sun was barely poking above the horizon when Galepaw blinked open his eyes. Stretching out the heaviness in his legs, he stood and glanced around at the other apprentices. They were still sleeping, their sides rising and falling rhythmically. He glanced at Spiderpaw and Melodypaw, his siblings, and wondered if he should wake them before deciding he’d head out on his own.
They had all been told several days ago that they were going to be assessed soon. Galepaw hoped he was good enough as it was, but something gnawed at him that caused him to doubt his abilities. Perhaps I should go do some training, he thought as he slipped from the den, as silent as a falling feather. He at least had the decency not to wake the other apprentices before they had to get up.
Peering around the clearing, he spotted his mother and father sharing tongues. A purr rumbled in his throat as he approached them and gave them each an affectionate lick on the cheek. “I’m going out to practice my skills for the assessment,” he said.
They looked at each other, then back at him. “Do you want one of us to come with you?” Jay asked.
“No, I’m not going too far. I’ll be fine.”
With a wave of his tail he was off, trotting down to the river. He wondered if he should try catching some fish. It was, after all, his weakest skill. Before they had come to join RiverClan they had lived in the forest and done most of their hunting beneath the trees, so the change from that to mostly fishing had been a bit daunting. The only problem was that it was the Snow Moon, in the human equivalent of February, and as he approached the water to look for fish all he found was the lapping of the river against the bank.
Touching his paw to the water, he quickly realized why. Jerking his paw back, he shook the freezing water from it. They must be hiding somewhere warmer, he thought. He’d have to take the stepping stones onto land and look for prey that way. Even though he knew how to swim, he certainly didn’t want to when it was cold out.
Leaping from one stone to the other, he kept his eyes and ears open to pick up any trace of prey—or danger. Flare was always telling them to make sure they were alert for anything that might harm them, and while Galepaw tended to forget that a lot, he was making an extra effort today. Once he made it to the far bank, he lifted his head and opened his mouth. Scents wafted across the organ in his mouth, a faint trace of mouse and a slightly stronger scent of starling. Concentrating, he began to follow the path to the bird.
He had gone farther than he wanted to already, but here he was, staring down a starling as it pecked among the tree roots with its yellow beak. Its feathers shimmered in colors of purple as it searched for food, aware of the cat nearby that was crouching down and wiggling his paws into just the right position. Ready, steady, jump! His paws thumped against the bird’s back and he bit its neck before it could take another breath.
Galepaw smiled to himself. He was much better at this kind of hunting, and despite having to pluck out feathers starlings tasted pretty good. Now he just had to bring it back to camp and place it in the fresh-kill pile.
They had all been told several days ago that they were going to be assessed soon. Galepaw hoped he was good enough as it was, but something gnawed at him that caused him to doubt his abilities. Perhaps I should go do some training, he thought as he slipped from the den, as silent as a falling feather. He at least had the decency not to wake the other apprentices before they had to get up.
Peering around the clearing, he spotted his mother and father sharing tongues. A purr rumbled in his throat as he approached them and gave them each an affectionate lick on the cheek. “I’m going out to practice my skills for the assessment,” he said.
They looked at each other, then back at him. “Do you want one of us to come with you?” Jay asked.
“No, I’m not going too far. I’ll be fine.”
With a wave of his tail he was off, trotting down to the river. He wondered if he should try catching some fish. It was, after all, his weakest skill. Before they had come to join RiverClan they had lived in the forest and done most of their hunting beneath the trees, so the change from that to mostly fishing had been a bit daunting. The only problem was that it was the Snow Moon, in the human equivalent of February, and as he approached the water to look for fish all he found was the lapping of the river against the bank.
Touching his paw to the water, he quickly realized why. Jerking his paw back, he shook the freezing water from it. They must be hiding somewhere warmer, he thought. He’d have to take the stepping stones onto land and look for prey that way. Even though he knew how to swim, he certainly didn’t want to when it was cold out.
Leaping from one stone to the other, he kept his eyes and ears open to pick up any trace of prey—or danger. Flare was always telling them to make sure they were alert for anything that might harm them, and while Galepaw tended to forget that a lot, he was making an extra effort today. Once he made it to the far bank, he lifted his head and opened his mouth. Scents wafted across the organ in his mouth, a faint trace of mouse and a slightly stronger scent of starling. Concentrating, he began to follow the path to the bird.
He had gone farther than he wanted to already, but here he was, staring down a starling as it pecked among the tree roots with its yellow beak. Its feathers shimmered in colors of purple as it searched for food, aware of the cat nearby that was crouching down and wiggling his paws into just the right position. Ready, steady, jump! His paws thumped against the bird’s back and he bit its neck before it could take another breath.
Galepaw smiled to himself. He was much better at this kind of hunting, and despite having to pluck out feathers starlings tasted pretty good. Now he just had to bring it back to camp and place it in the fresh-kill pile.
