Prompt #31: "Please. This is an art form."
Featuring: Tundra (Claypool), Hawkpaw | Setting: the first full day of Hawkpaw's apprenticeship to Claypool, the river
A longhaired brown tabby tom huffed, "Come, Hawkpaw, off to training!" A younger brown tabby tom appeared at the entrance of the large cave that made up their camp, shivering in the cold morning breeze. The apprentice complained, a thick French accent masking his mew, "It's cold, Tundra!" Tundra, a brown Siberian tom, scoffed and meowed, "It's spring, Hawkpaw, this is warm." Hawkpaw sniffed, "You 'ave long fur, monsieur! Not me." Tundra reminded his apprentice, "Look, we're going fishing, all right?" The younger tom asked, eyes wide with curiosity, "Fishing?" The former rogue nodded, "Yes, fishing. I was hoping to pass down my family's fishing skills down to a cat, and look, here you are!" Hawkpaw shook his body to get his fur fluffed up against the early newleaf air as he meowed excitedly, "Merci, monsieur!" Tundra raised an eyebrow (if cats can, of course) and asked, "Eh?" Hawkpaw blinked in mild surprise before realizing he had spoken French out of habit. "Ah... Thank you, sir." His longhaired mentor chuckled and meowed, warning, "This path is very dangerous for you to go alone. Come, follow exactly in my pawsteps." Nodding, the former kittypet followed his mentor down the Sea Path, taking care to follow exactly the steps Tundra took.
Once on the shore, Tundra indicated toward an expanse of forest to their right and meowed, "Look, there is the forest that leads to the river." Hawkpaw glanced at the storm-gray seas before asking, "Why not the sea?" Tundra glanced back at the sea before snorting, "If you have a death wish, Hawkpaw, perhaps. But not today." Scowling slightly, Hawkpaw followed the tom toward the lush forest, his tail flicking back and forth. The further the two toms went, the less of the salty tang of the sea Hawkpaw smelled. The brown tabby tom remarked, "Tundra, I believe that I don't smell the sea anymore." His mentor nodded, explaining, "Yes. This way, you will soon see the river, where it is even safe to drink." The Siberian tom then indicated for his apprentice to stop, at which the French tom obliged. "Shhh," the tom murmured, "listen."
At first, Hawkpaw heard nothing but the rustling of the leaves. As the brown tabby tom turned to his mentor to ask just what he was listening for, he heard it. The unmistakable tinkling of water. Hawkpaw let out a soft gasp as Tundra nodded and indicated for the two of them to push forward silently, until they were at the river's edge. Here, Hawkpaw could see the clear water of the river as it gurgled and chattered along the smooth pebbles of the riverbed. Tundra turned to his French apprentice and murmured, "Where I come from, we would say, 'неимоверный'. It means, 'incredible'." Hawkpaw breathed, nodding at his mentor's words, "Oui, sir. Where I once lived, we called it 'incroyable'. It means that too." Both toms watched as the river continued to rush toward the great waters of the sea, unperturbed by the watching gaze of the awestruck clan cats.
Tundra finally meowed, "Yes, fishing." Hawkpaw nodded, forcing his eyes to look away from the breathtaking vista of the water. His mentor meowed, pointing at the dark spots in the water with his paw, "You see here? The dark spots usually means fish. Look intently into the river, and when you think that you can catch, you scoop the fish up-" the tom let out a loud yowl and thrust both paws into the water with a splash; when his paws came out of the water, the unmistakable silvery body of a fish came tumbling out with his paws. Tundra deftly batted the slippery sea creature onto the ground, where it began floundering helplessly on the leaf-littered ground. The Siberian tom glanced back at his young charge before meowing, "and once you hook one up, remember to bat it onto the ground." He then caught the fish between his paws and carefully bit into it, killing the fish instantly. Tundra then meowed, "And then kill it as quickly as possible. Then what did I tell you yesterday? When we finish catching the prey, we do what?" Hawkpaw recited, excitement rushing through his veins at the demonstration of his mentor, "We give thanks to StarClan for giving us the prey, and we thank the prey for providing us with food." Tundra purred, "Exactly, Hawkpaw. You are a good learner." Glancing back at the river, Tundra meowed, "Do you want to try?" Hawkpaw nodded excitedly and sat down at the river's edge, balancing himself with his two hind paws firmly planted on the ground. Tundra called out, "Constant vigilance! Focus on the water." Hawkpaw narrowed his eyes in concentration as a fish's silhouette appeared in his sight. Hawkpaw then let out a wild "Yeaaaaah!" and thrust his paws into the air, just as he had seen his mentor do just moments earlier. Tundra cried, "Like a scoop, Hawkpaw! Like a scoop!" The brown tabby tom quickly got his paws around the slippery fish and scooped it out into the water. "Now hit it so it lands on the ground!" shouted the Siberian tom as his young charge did just that. Hawkpaw laughed, disbelief in his eyes, "I actually did it!" as his mentor finished off the flopping fish for him. Shaking his head and scowling good-naturedly, Tundra reminded his young apprentice, "What did I tell you? Kill the prey quickly, not staring at it in disbelief." Rolling his eyes at his mentor, Hawkpaw quickly meowed a prayer and thanks to StarClan, and then meowed, "Are we going back now?" Tundra chuckled, "You say that, but your eyes are saying, 'Please let me stay here longer'." Hawkpaw admitted, "Fishing is fun! You are right, monsieur." Tundra chuckled, "Let's go back, it's gonna be getting late soon, and we shouldn't be caught out here then." Hawkpaw sighed and nodded, trudging back to camp behind his mentor, his fish clamped shut between his jaws.
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- Word count: 995
