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synopsis :: this thread takes place in the present day. cottonpaw goes hunting with geraniumclaw, and that's pretty much it.

participant(s) :: cottonpaw (solstice), geraniumclaw (luna )

content warning(s) :: none | realm events :: nope! | skip rate :: n/a

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the day was young. dew still dappled the grass, the sky was warm and inviting, and cotton was itching to get out of camp. it was too nice of a day to squander it stuck inside dens or cleaning elders of ticks... not that he disliked those chores, of course (yes, he did, he didn't particularly want to get anywhere near a tick, nor let his tongue get close to the elders' greasy pelts. he respected them, he loved listening to their stories, but... ah, he was digging himself a grave here.)

regardless, he was sent out to hunt with geraniumclaw, who was a warrior he had very little experience with. he saw her in passing, sure, but never really got a chance to chat with her. the young tom was always too busy asking questions of his mentor, or shadowing his father, or slipping out of camp whether the older cats wanted him to or not. he was getting better at sneaking, but that really wasn't the point. today, the point was that he hadn't quite mastered hunting yet. he wasn't supposed to yet, he knew that, but he should be better at it by now, right? instead, he still found himself overshooting his prey, or accidentally jumping too early. it was as if his paws reacted without his input, simply too quick for his own good. it was handy sometimes—the tom's reaction time was pretty quick—but not so much others.

he hadn't said much since they left camp, lost in his own little world. he found himself keeping a close eye on the territory around them, mentally filing away some of the landmarks they passed and the various bugs and birds he spotted, either too small for catching, or too high for him to reach. he wondered what it was like once leaf-fall came to pass. the elder cats sometimes talked about how cold it got, how snow would blanket the land and turn everything white. what would that be like? he hadn't seen a leafbare yet, and part of him was excited to see how the land would change, watching all of the plants and animals he committed to memory change with it.

"what's leafbare like?" he asked, some of his first words since he left camp. he seemed to realize that he hadn't talked much since they left, suddenly looking at geraniumclaw with a wide-eyed expression. "the warriors have talked a lot about it with the weather getting colder. i can't imagine everything turning white."