Stained Sunset [IC]

While all this talk of apprentices hollowed out Laurelheart’s chest Newtpaw somehow felt more present with the conversation skirting around her. A balance, now that was always the tricky thing. It’s easy to throw a cat into the deep end, easier still to let them splash around in the shallows but teaching a cat to swim without the risk of drowning was nearly impossible. His own warrior assessment had been pretty basic; mock battle a warrior, hunt, easy enough to pass if you didn’t get distracted and start tracking a fox. After the first time his sister’s assessments had been even more lacking in imagination, a long drawn out hunt, standing sentry at a border; more testing her patience and willingness to follow orders than her skills as a warrior to be.

“Well if you wanted to do something different you could do a tracking task. Send a warrior into the forest ask him to track their movements. Wouldn’t give you much on his hunting ability but I doubt he’d expect it.” Laurelheart said with false confidence.

He watched as she groomed, his tail brushing slowly against the ground. Vaguely he remembered her sleeping on the other side of the den in the days leading up to his warrior ceremony. Even now, four winters on, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d reached out to Frostpaw, more to anyone really whether Newtpaw might have learned to stand on her own two feet and…. The first lesson a medicine cat learned was never to question the past no matter how much the past had taken from him. With great difficulty he shoved the thought of his sister from his mind.

"An interesting thought. I could pair it with a battle test in the undergrowth, since all of his other battle assessments have been in wide open spaces," She replied thoughtfully, "I have some confidence in his hunting ability, this will test his patience and his determination, something I am far more concerned with. He seems to be easily distracted at times."

She thought back to earlier that day, and wondered if the young tom was truly prepared as well as he could be for his final assessment. At ten moons of age, he was still almost two moons short of when apprentices typically became warriors. She forced the thought away. He had proven he had what it takes to be a warrior, now all she needed was to prove it.

"What about Cherrypaw? Is she nearing her medicine cat name?" Frostflower asked curiously. She had never really been certain how a medicine cat determined when their apprentice was ready for a new name, and Laurelheart had already had his when he became the former medicine cat's apprentice.

“He’s only young, patience he can learn in time.” Assuming he has time. Laurelheart shook his head to rid it of the dark thought. “That sounds like a good plan; if only we could ask real battles to be fought where we have the advantage.”

Laurelheart wracked his brain, counting back the moons; he’d been a leaf-bare kit? No, that was Pantherstep. Crimsonpaw had been born late last new-leaf which made him only ten moons old but if Frostflower believed he was ready and he passed the assessment who was Laurelheart to argue? If worst came to worst it could be a trial run of sorts, a way to see which skills needed to be ironed out before he could become a warrior.

“Cherrypaw is barely a moon older than Crimsonpaw. She needs a lot more experience before that day comes.” He laughed lightly, it wasn’t as if he could stage injuries for her to practice on. “I expect by the time leaf-bare is upon us once more the clan will have two medicine cats. In all honesty I’ll be happy when that day comes. I’m not getting any younger and I know the clan will sleep easier with a young medicine cat on the job.”

"True enough. I worry he may need a moon or two more before he is truly ready, even if it were just in order to learn to temper himself," Frostflower admitted with a chuckle, "He is so certain that he's ready, though I think much of that is due to Pantherstep having become a warrior."

She couldn't help but begin to run strategies for the assessment through her mind, how to keep it safe but challenging, and which young warrior would be the best to use as the object to be tracked. Pantherstep was a good choice, though perhaps a cat that wasn't as close to Crimsonpaw would be a better choice. She licked her chest and forced herself to tune back in to what the medicine cat was saying.

"You aren't that old, Laurelheart. It isn't as if you are charging into battle," she joked, half tempted to bat the medicine cat over the ears, "But it will be some relief, to have two cats to tend to the sick during leaf-bare. It isn't an easy time for anyone."

“But then what apprentice is not adamant about being ready to be a warrior? If you were to ask seven moon old Crimsonpaw if he was ready would be any less adamant?” Laurelheart picked the next words carefully. “He’s grown into a fine young cat but I’ve never known *Leaderstar to make a warrior this early. Then again there are stories of warriors being made even younger so you never know.”

Laurelheart shrugged and bent down to lick his shoulder. There was a little more physical activity involved with being a medicine cat than she seemed to realize. There was the journey to the moon trees and there was the constant scouring the territory for herbs to say nothing of charging to the aid of injured cats after battles were fought. Every moment mattered when it came to injuries which is why it was so important to have a fleet footed medicine cat.

“Yes, it will be great, I can snooze through the whole season.“ His whiskers twitched. “I have no idea how I ever managed leaf-bare without her. “

(*they’re a little bit leaderless at the moment so I’m using a placeholder)

Frostflower laughed harder this time, and was vaguely aware that nothing had made her laugh this much since her mother had gone to join StarClan. She felt as though she was a young mentor again, being gently scolded about her first apprentice. She had been so caught up in her own mind that she had forgotten such a simple fact.

"Perhaps I just ought to ask you before I make decisions from now on, clearly my mind has clouded over moons before yours," Her tone was light, "I'm certain he could benefit from more training. That having been said he is overdue for an assessment. I can report his progress to *Leaderstar and allow him to make the decision."

She couldn't resist the urge to lightly push Laurelheart's shoulder this time, surprised at the almost foreign playful feeling that rushed through her. Even as a young cat she had not been overly fond of playing. Ears and whiskers forward, she watched him carefully for a response.

Laurelheart found his whiskers twitching, the picture of the serene, dignified medicine cat fell away and soon he was laughing too. It had been awhile since he’d laughed. Why are we laughing? Did it really matter? He pulled himself back under control with great difficultly.

“Mind clouded my dear? You’re just anxious to get some peace and quiet in your old age. You can’t lie to me my dear.” He said stoically. “Hmm?”

His body tensed at the gentle push to his shoulder. The moons had robbed him the desire to play but with all the grace of a medicine cat he composed himself quickly. He spun around and reared up on his hind legs and cuffed at her ear. It was strange how quickly the motions came back.

Frostflower growled playfully as he cuffed her ear, swiping gently at his back legs. She was glad that he responded in kind, as she was uncertain what she would have done if he had not. Dismissing it from her mind quickly, she rolled away from him and into a crouch, trying to decide the best plan of attack. She had always been more of a think before you leap kind of fighter, though age had tempered that with instinct and muscle memory.

"Peace and quiet? Me?" Frostflower hissed in mock offense, "You'll have to drag me into the elders den!"

She lashed her tail once and began to circle the medicine cat, a well practiced stance keeping her steps light and her muscles coiled, ready to spring. After completing a quarter of a circle she leaped at him, paws outstretched.

Laurelheart’s rear landed clumsily as his cuff trailed harmlessly through the air a few mouse lengths from Frostflower’s ear. When was the last time he did this? Tussled without the fear of claws meeting flesh or the guise of training? Played? He couldn’t remember a time since he left the nursery. With Newtpaw it had always been go go go, train train train; there had never been much time for playing, and afterwards…

It was a good thing Frostflower was pacing for he needed the time to steady his feet and let the stifled instincts come back. Dimly he was aware of his back tensing, ears flattening to his skull as he echoed her motions moving in a smaller, tighter circle. Something between a mock-growl and a purr bubbled out of him, uncontainable.

He saw what was coming a second too late and sprung lightly to the side, aiming to miss the strike but she collided with his shoulder, throwing them both off at a tangent. He raked upwards with his hind claws hoping to collide with the vulnerable flesh at her belly.

The feeling of claws striking her belly as she was flung off course startled Frostflower, sending her sprawling across the mossy earth. She huffed as she rolled quickly to her feet, barely aware of how her pure white coat was covered in patches of dirt and moss. She was surprised at how easily she had been thrown aside. Even though Laurelheart was larger than she was, she had much more battle experience.
She decided not to overthink her next attack, zigzagging toward him, her eyes firmly on his shoulders. Last minute she veered to the left side, aiming a side swipe at the white cat's legs in hopes of unbalancing him. As she past him, she pulled a quick turn and swiped powerfully at where she expected his right hip to be.

His hind paws caught flesh and the moment the need to protect his belly faded Laurelheart threw himself sideways, getting his legs back under him at last. He allowed himself a moment of triumph but Frostflower regained her footing with incredible speed. Before Laurelheart had time to think, let alone formulate a plan, she was tearing towards him. She seemed to come in slow motion, larger than life until she was all he could see. Blood pounded through his skull but despite the slowness of the world his thoughts were sluggish.

Dodge! By the time he formulated the order there was no time left to desperately throw his weight sideways to say nothing of springing lightly to the side like he envisioned. A swift, powerful swipe knocked his legs out from under him. This time he recovered more quickly, rolling away so the second strike missed him by inches. He was back on his feet, breathing heavily in a tense defensive crouch.

When her swipe caught nothing but air, Frostflower let out a disappointed grumble, but spun to face her opponent. She narrowed her eyes at him as she prowled forward again, using a hunters crouch. She wiggled her hips slightly, a low purr growing in her throat. He was almost within her reach.
"You aren't as out of practice as I thought," she praised, "I thought you would've gone soft by now."
Her battle instincts were in full gear now, and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She was glad to practice her skills with someone closer to her size and experience than an apprentice, and the play was invigorating. Looking back, she wasn't entirely sure why she hadn't spent more time this way at a younger age. She dismissed the conscious thoughts and allowed instinct to control her movements, prowling closer until she was close enough to lunge and swat at Laurelheart's nose.

“Oh trust me, I’m every bit as shocked as you are.” He purred back.

His voice sounded oddly mature after the play and the blood ebbed a little, it was as if he’d expected to find he was in the body of some other cat, but he didn’t let the oddness pull him away. He was ready for the next strike but barely. Rather than trying to dodge away an old scrap of advice came back to him; act your size. He chose his moment carefully, and when Frostflower lunged he reared upwards, taking a swipe intended for his face on the shoulder and then, no hesitation, threw his weight downwards.