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Driftingpath was a newly made warrior and as his first night out as a warrior, he decided to go hunting. He prefers to hunt by himself. It didn't add to the pressure of other cats possibly watching him stalk. He couldn't handle that kind of attention, it would freak him out and he would miss the catch. He did much better on his own. As he made his way through the thick forest, he kept his jaws open for signs of prey. It wasn't long before a mouse caught his eye. He crouched into a perfect hunting crouch and began to stalk toward the mouse, his dark fur blending into the background with ease. He was just about to pounce when he heard a twig snap. The mouse ran for cover and Driftingpath stood up with a frustrated expression. He scanned the shadows, attempting to catch sight of whoever caused him to lose his catch. "Whose there?" He called into the shadows, hoping it was just one of his clan mates.
Gravekit, Gravekit thought to himself as he cursed under his breath, you’ve really done it this time.
This was his first successful sneak-out attempt since he’d arrived in NightClan and he’d already blown it after about ten minutes. He should’ve just sat in the bush all night until he was ready to try and sneak back into camp, but he just had to get overconfident and try get a better angle of Driftingpath hunting. What else could he do now but reveal himself and hope the warrior would take mercy on him? If nothing else, he could at least try and weasel his way out of a punishment.
“Don’t be mad,” he murmured, crawling out from behind the bush he’d been hiding in. “I just wanted to watch...”
Driftingpath perked his ears in surprise to see one of Nightclan's new kittens out in the forest. "You shouldn't be out here, kid. There's more threatening predators out during the night." Driftingpath was a very large tom and very masculine. His mother is Burningstar and his father was a Primal Instinct cat. He had power in every step but the confidence wasn't there. While his size was intimidating and his personality slight gruff, he was secretly a softy and had severe anxiety.
Gravekit's eyes darted uneasily around the forest, before his gaze landed back onto Driftingpath. Logically he knew there were things like foxes, and badgers, and...other nasty things crawling around in the forest after dark, but as he eyed up Driftingpath's muscled form, he couldn't help wonder if the most dangerous thing in the forest right now was actually the warrior standing before him.
"That's why I was sticking close to you, eheh..." Gravekit suppressed a shiver, eyes cast downwards in a mixture of embarrassment and fear. "I figured you would beat them up for me. You seem like you could do that."
"Kid, I didn't even know you were here. How could I have protected you if I didn't know you were following me?" He questioned, feeling flattered that the kit saw him as a strong cat. "Wait...how long have you been following me?"
"Uhhh..." Gravekit had a hunch that however he answered, Driftingpath could freak out on him no matter what. "Not the whole time I've been out here," he admitted. "I saw you start hunting and I wanted to get a closer look and see how to do it, so...however long you've been hunting in this area is how long I've been following you, maybe..." His voice trailed off near the end of his sentence.
He rubbed his chin, eye balling the kit closely. "That's actually pretty impressive that you followed me for that long and I didn't even notice until you stepped on that twig." He put his paw back down and a smirk played across his lips. "Let me see your hunting crouch."
Gravekit suppressed a gulp. He could follow cats alright, but whenever he tried to apply those same techniques to prey, something always seemed to go wrong. Still, he'd been issued a challenge (and also an order, if kits were expected to follow warriors' orders) and his pride took priority.
"Uh, yeah. About that," he said, getting into his best attempt at a hunting crouch; he felt like he was at the wrong angle, and he was definitely sticking his butt out way too high into the air, but at least he'd tried. "You might be expecting a little too much there."
Driftingpath moved forward and placed his paw on the kit's hind quaters, gently lowering it to adjust the kits' stance. He did this in a few places until the kit almost had a nearly perfect hunter's crouch. "How does that feel?"
Gravekit squinted as Driftingpath moved him into position. It felt...like a lot of effort. He could see how it aided hunting, but still—did warriors seriously have to get into this position every time they found prey? "Are cats really supposed to bend this way?" he asked, voice tight from exertion. Perhaps it wasn't that the hunter's crouch was a particularly painful exercise, but that Gravekit was just fundamentally opposed to doing any work himself.