`when im { BARKiNG AT THE MOON } !

[Roxie !]

for Fleetfoot ! ♥


There was a time when an apprentice could go out and do something, and that thing would be new and exciting. But Jitterpaw wasn't known for her lengthy attention span, and so that time had long passed. Take an assessment, for instance. The first time she'd been sent on one, a thrill of elation had coursed through her little ginger body. Because an assessment could only be done once you had made progress. When you were close to becoming a warrior!

"Close", it turned out, was a subjective term. Close turned out to be two other assessments, including this one, along with an infinite number of hunts and patrols. She understood that with tension rising in the forest, Badgerstar had a lot on her mind, but Jitterpaw felt as if she would explode if she had to wait any longer. What else was there to learn? What else was there to do? What else was there to prove.

Hmph, The tip of the apprentice's flame-colored tail twitched irritably. Maybe I don't wanna be a warrior anyway. They're no fun. But however she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't really deny that being a warrior was something she wanted more than anything else. And when Jitterpaw wanted something, it didn't just drift around the in back of her mind. It kneaded and prodded and persisted until it nearly drove her crazy, effectively making her even more spastic(if that were actually possible). And today, the normal bubbly bounce in her step wasn't so much enthusiastic as it was determined. Today, she was going to catch so much prey that Badgerstar just wouldn't be able to ignore her skill any longer.

The gorge seemed to be an odd place to start, as dangerous as it was, but Jitterpaw could scent rabbit on the breeze. It was possible that a few had strayed this way from WindClan territory, and if they had, she would be the first on their trail! Her rich brown eyes glittered and her claws scraped against the rocky earth as she prowled eagerly along the edge of the gorge. With Jitterpaw being known for her inability to sit still and all, one might assume that this would make her a careless hunter. And although it was true that fighting was her more prominent skill, she'd worked hard throughout her time as an apprentice and her hunting abilities had significantly improved.

Her ears flicked to and fro, picking up on the sounds of the world around her. So far, she could find no telltale signs of brushing pelts or thumping pawsteps that could give her prey away. One thing she was acutely aware of was the thunderous roaring of the water below. The apprentice's gaze flickered in the direction of the raging rapids. Crashing repeatedly against the stony bases of the cliffsides, they were formiddable even to a careless little scamp like Jitterpaw.

"Sure is a long way down," she mused to herself. This was very typical of Jitterpaw--unable to keep her mouth shut, even when there was no other cat around. With one last curious twitch of her whiskers, she shrugged and turned away from the dizzying height. Even that deadly sight failed to hold her attention for long. Anyway, she had to focus on her hunt. It was early in the morning, with the golden sun just barely rising over the forest. She'd wanted to get an early start, ahead of any warriors who might come around to spoil her fun, or Honeypaw. As much as Jitterpaw loved her sister, she couldn't help the competitiveness that never failed to spark between them.

Suddenly, there it was: a flash of brown, a barely audible thud, and a then lithe form darting for cover. A rabbit! But it had seen her before she'd seen it, and RiverClan cats weren't the best rabbit-hunters in the land. Still, the fiery apprentice instinctively pushed all doubt away and charged after the creature with a sudden rush of adrenaline. The burst of speed wouldn't last her very long, but if she could catch the rabbit quickly...well, then. She'd have something to show for her efforts.

[{ tessa }]

Most cats wouldn't want to be up this early, but Fleetfoot takes his warrior responsibilities very seriously and has agreed to lead the dawn patrol. Or maybe lead isn't a good word, since he is actually the only cat on the patrol because of RiverClan's small size. But with warmer weather and plentiful prey, Fleetfoot hopes that this will change. Soon it will be the time of year when some of the she-cats start to think about having kits. Meaning that RiverClan has a chance to grow its ranks. *But all the other clans too.* He thinks. While WindClan still dwindles, ThunderClan has at least as many if not more cats than RiverClan has. And ShadowClan is the largest of them all. Fleetfoot's hackles raise at the thought of an attack from another clan. *Let them try. One RiverClan warrior is worth three of any other Clan.*

He has already patrolled the river and Sunningrocks, and now Fleetfoot comes to the gorge. The tom's gray pelt blends well with most of RiverClan's territory, including the sandy dull cliffs of the gorge. He doesn't make a sound as he stalks forward. He listens to the rush of the water and the echoes in the gorge, and allows himself to relax. He is home.

Fleetfoot happens to be downwind of Jitterpaw's position, so he doesn't smell her or the rabbit coming. The first sign he gets is the loud thumping pawsteps racing towards him. They certainly aren't trying to be quiet. Fleetfoot is instictively alarmed, and he freezes in place. He sniffs the air suspiciously. And then his silver eyes widen as two figures come hurling straight for him. A terrified rabbit bolts in his direction, barely noticing him in its fear. But what is the cause of the rabbits fright? Fleetfoot looks beyond it and sighs as he sees a familiar flame-colored she-cat. He recognizes her as Jitterpaw, the beautiful but impetuous apprentice that has been haunting his pawsteps lately. Of course she would be the one to get up at the crack of dawn just to run around.

Fleetfoot was made a warrior just recently, so he isn't too much older than the apprentice. But sometimes it feels like he's her mentor with the way he always has to keep her out of trouble. Fleetfoot remembers how they patrolled the river together and play-fought near the waterfall. It was the first time they really talked. Well actually Jitterpaw did most of the talking. It seems like she never STOPS talking, especially at gatherings, where Fleetfoot has to keep an extra close eye on her to prevent her from saying anything that she shouldn't.

He jumps out of the frantic rabbit's path without thinking, just automatically trying to get out of the way. He looks after it, wondering if it's worth pursueing, but then he realizes that Jitterpaw is still charging towards him. Fleetfoot whips around to stare at the ginger she-cat. "Jitterpaw! Stop!"

[Roxie !]

Almost dizzy from the rush of the chase, Jitterpaw tore across the rocky terrain in pursuit of her prey. Small ginger paws pounded against the ground as she bounded after the rabbit, driven by sheer determination. It was open ground; a test of pure speed and nothing else, and she was no WindClan cat. But steadily, the apprentice was beginning to gain on her prey, the distance between them slowly closing as their hearts pounded. Jitterpaw grinned confidently. She had this down, no problem. Or so she thought

Like a jutting rock in the river, a gray tabby tom veered suddenly into her path. His silver eyes were wide with shock as he watched her race towards him. Jitterpaw met his astounded gaze and subconsciously registered: this was Fleetfoot in her way. He was calling to her: "Jitterpaw! Stop!"

But Jitterpaw had no time to stop! What did Fleetfoot think he was doing, getting between her and her prey? Was he trying to make her look bad? Or was there some urgent reason he was trying to stop her? Either way, the fiery she-cat was powerless to obey his command. By the time she even tried to, they were just too close. Her paws skidded uselessly against the ground as she slid sharply towards him. Jitterpaw narrowed her tawny eyes and braced for the impact.

She collided with Fleetfoot in a chaotic heap of tangled limbs. The tom was bigger than she was, but at the speed she'd been running at she had no doubt that this was going to get messy. It was only lucky they weren't closer to the edge of the gorge. The image of the reserved warrior tumbling to his death because of her would have normally mortified her, but right now Jitterpaw was nearly indignant enough to want to push him off herself. With a grunt, she picked herself off the ground and stiffly moved away from her clan-mate, her flame-colored fur fluffed slightly with surprise.

"Fleetfoot!" She frowned disapprovingly at the pale tom, her tail lashing behind her as she shook the dust from her bright pelt. "Do you have something against feeding the Clan? Because I almost had that rabbit!" Jitterpaw turned to glare over Fleetfoot's shoulder, in the direction that the rabbit had ran off. It was much too late to try going after it now. With a soft growl, she scuffed the ground with her paw to release her frustration, and returned her ever-scattered attention to the warrior before her. She was in no mood to apologize for the collision, either. It wasn't her fault that Fleetfoot had been in the way.

But however irritated she might have been, Jitterpaw was not the kind of cat who stayed angry for very long--if only because her attention was always quickly diverted from her anger. She let out a light huff and sat down in front of the tabby tom, raising a forepaw to give it a brief wash. "I know it's green-leaf and all, but that doesn't mean we can just throw prey away. And I thought I was the clumsy one." Her eyes glittered with a spark of mischievous humor as she spoke these last words, her whiskers twitching slightly. She'd not even been in the company of her clan-mate for two minutes, and already her talkative tendencies were taking over.

"Anyway. Do you at least have something important to tell me? Is the forest burning down? Has Badgerstar ordered an attack on the local kittypets? Did a StarClan messenger descend from the heavens to tell you to spoil my hunting?" Jitterpaw gave a light purr of amusement at her own joke, though she hardly expected Fleetfoot to share her appreciation of the jest. One thing that Jitterpaw had learned about the tom was that he was kind of--no, scratch that,--really serious. And so naturally, whenever she was around him, she made it her mission in life to get him to crack a smile. Jitterpaw always loved a challenge. And, now that her hunt was ruined, she needed something to entertain her.