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It was dawn. The sun crept just above the horizon, enveloping itself in a waif of pale clouds. The apprentice lifted her nose towards the blood-red sky and parted her jaws. A tempting scent had caught her attention. Vole! Her tongue rasping around her muzzle, the grey cat slowly lowered herself, flattening her sleek, striped body against the ground. As she weaved between the undergrowth next to the riverbank, paws light and almost completely silent, the scent of the water vole only became stronger. It was only a short while before the cat saw the brown fur of her prey as it nibbled on part of a reed. The vole had its back turned to her; it was oblivious to the fact she was stalking it. This is my chance! Her pupils expanding, the grey tabby she-cat prepared herself to leap at the helpless creature, her lean muscles rippling beneath her pelt. She hesitated for a second. It was so unusually quiet around here that she could hear her own heartbeat. Normally, the birds would be chirping this early in the morning. Hmm, strange. Attention flitting back to her hunt, the cat drew her tongue around her muzzle once more. Then, she leaped! Paws outstretched, she pinned the small creature to the ground, before raising a forepaw and dealing a death blow. The water vole didn't even have time to squeal in shock. Contented, she rose from the reeds with her catch dangling limply from her jaws, thanked StarClan, and started to pad briskly back to camp.
Ivypaw's eyes slowly blinked open. A large shaft of light entered the apprentice den from the stone entrance, and it took a few moments for the she-cat's pale green eyes to adjust. Her jaws parted in an enormous yawn, exposing her sharp fangs, as she got to her paws and arched her back in a luxurious stretch. With a sigh, Ivypaw stared at her nest - scraps of moss seemed to be everywhere apart from where she actually slept. She had been dreaming. Frowning, she rolled the shredded moss into a pile and made it look at least presentable for a sleeping place. She gave her grey-striped fur a couple of brisk licks to smooth it down before making her way out of the den, her long tail flicking against the warm stone wall.
The she-cat strolled out along the rocks of camp. Almost immediately, two tabby shapes caught her eye in the entrance to the warrior's den, whom she recognised as Swiftheart, her mentor, and Sparrowfoot. Careful not to slip on the stones and pebbles, she padded up towards the two cats. "Morning, Swiftheart, Sparrowfoot," Ivypaw mewed, refraining from letting her enthusiasm slip into her voice - she wanted to look and sound as professional as an apprentice could be, especially as so because she was nearing the end of her apprenticeship. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, but are there any patrols I could possibly go on, or should I sort out the elders first?"
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