Private Thread Frozen Tears

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright’s ears flicked at Sturgeonpaw’s question, her expression softening as she paused to consider how best to address his concerns. His connection between land prey and Boldstar’s death was understandable...Still, the hesitance in his voice pulled at her heart.

She crouched beside him, her white fur blending into the snow as she fixed him with a reassuring look. "I-I understand why you’d feel that way, Sturgeonpaw..." She offered softly. "Land prey is safe when we’re careful and check them. And right now, it’s the best way for us to keep RiverClan strong."

His suggestion about breaking the ice drew a nervous smile from her. "Breaking through isn’t as easy as it sounds." Her gaze flicked to the frozen river, its surface glinting in the pale sunlight. "Even if we could crack it open, the water below is freezing, and it’d be dangerous for us to try. T-That’s why learning to hunt on land is so important. It’s a skill every RiverClan cat needs during leaf-bare. How about we give it a try?"

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright nodded, her whiskers twitching at his reluctance but pleased he was willing to give it a try. "We’ll definitely check everything before we bring it back to camp." Cottonbright promised, her tone gentle yet firm. "That’s p-part of being careful hunters."

"Some animals, like squirrels, move fast, and we’ll need to chase them. Others, like mice or voles, can be caught by waiting and pouncing at the right moment." She gestured with her muzzle. "T-That’s where tracking comes in. If we follow these prints quietly, we can figure out where the prey is hiding and decide what to do next."

She crouched, demonstrating how to carefully sniff the ground near the tracks. "See how these prints are close together? That means the animal is moving slowly - foraging maybe. And this...might be where it stopped to nibble at something. Y-You try. Take a deep breath and see what you can pick up..."

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright’s whiskers twitched with amusement as she watched Sturgeonpaw's enthusiasm reignite. "T-That’s the spirit!" She purred softly, her tail curling in approval. "And yes, you can tell by the scent if you focus. It takes practice, but once you’ve learned it, you’ll start to recognize different types of prey by smell alone."

She rose from her crouch and moved silently beside him, her paws gliding over the snow with practiced ease. "The scent you’re picking up...hm...mouse? No, vole! Listen closely too. Sometimes you can hear them rustling under the snow." She tilted her head, her ears swiveling as if to demonstrate.

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright’s lime-green eyes glimmered with approval at Sturgeonpaw’s sharp hearing and curiosity. "Good question,, Sturgeonpaw." She mewed softly, her voice calm as she crouched beside him again. "When p-prey is under the snow, it’s about precision."

She gestured with her paw toward the faint movement beneath the drift. "You don’t want to make too much noise or startle it. Use your ears to track its exact position. O-Once you’re sure, you’ll need to strike quickly - use your weight to dig your paws in and pull it out before it escapes."

Her tail flicked lightly, indicating the spot where the vole had paused beneath the snow. "The trick is to aim just ahead of where you hear it moving. They’re fast, so you want to catch them as they dart forward. It’s a bit like hooking fish, but instead of water, y-you’re working with snow."

Cottonbright watched intently, ready to step in if he needed guidance.

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright leaped to her paws, her tail lashing in excitement as she saw Sturgeonpaw’s claw catch the vole. "D-don’t let it get away - after it!"

Her green eyes sparkled as she bounded lightly to the edge of the bank, ready to assist if needed, but she held back to let her apprentice take the lead. The streak of red against the snow told her that the vole was wounded, but it could still move quickly down the slope.

She crouched slightly, her own claws unsheathing instinctively as she watched, ready to intervene if Sturgeonpaw needed a final assist.

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright’s whiskers twitched with amusement and pride as she watched Sturgeonpaw bounding after the vole, his persistence shining through despite the challenges. "Y-you’re doing great, Sturgeonpaw!"

Her lime-green eyes stayed sharp, tracking the vole’s frantic flailing and Sturgeonpaw’s determined attempts to corner it. Seeing the vole trapped between Sturgeonpaw and its den, Cottonbright hesitated for only a moment before deciding to step in and offer assistance. "Try to h-herd it toward me...We'll work together, like when herding fish in shallow streams."

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright's ears twitched as Sturgeonpaw’s quick thinking sent the vole tumbling toward her. Her lime-green eyes locked onto the spinning rodent, her paws already in motion as it landed near her. With practiced grace, Cottonbright lunged, her claws flashing as she pinned the vole firmly to the ground. Its wriggling ceased with a final swipe, and she straightened, shaking the snow from her paws before glancing back at Sturgeonpaw.

"We did it! That's good teamwork." Her tone was brimming with pride. She nudged the vole gently with her paw, her tail curling in approval. She padded over to him, a warm smile on her face. "Ready to c-carry it back to camp?"

Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa. Pressure that'll tip, tip tip 'till you just go pop, whoa.
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Cottonbright blinked in surprise, her lime-green eyes softening at Sturgeonpaw’s unguarded admiration. She hadn’t expected such heartfelt words from her apprentice, and they warmed her from nose to tail-tip. She felt a wreck, and visibly shuttered under the scrutiny. "I’d be happy to show you. W-we’ll work on your b-balance and precision, okay? Every cat moves differently, but with enough practice, you’ll find your own rhythm. Just like with swimming—t-the first few splashes are awkward."

Her gaze flicked to the vole now hanging from Sturgeonpaw’s jaws, and she chuckled softly at his muffled enthusiasm. "Of course we can practice more later. I-I think you’ll be a hunter to be proud of in no time." Her small paws in relative to her large body took some pratice to get used to - Sturgeonpaw would find his stride.