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Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw gave a faint shrug, his ears flicking at her greeting. "Well enough..." He said, though his tone lacked conviction. Sleep had come in fits, broken by half-formed dreams and the echo of things he couldn’t fix. But there was no point in saying that. "Maybe I slept on a burr."

He eyed Heronsong for a moment measured her posture. He wasn’t the only one feeling it. "What are we doing today?" The blue mink tom asked, voice low but steady. "More sparring? ...Or something different?" There was a quiet edge of hope in the question, not for ease but for challenge. He needed focus and he preferred something he could sink his claws into and not think too much over.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw blinked, the faintest flicker of disappointment passing through his expression before he smothered it. The warrior code...of course.

He didn’t argue, though. If anything, he gave a slow nod and followed after her, his paws quiet against the forest floor as they left camp. "Right. Makes sense." He said, voice flat but not hostile. The code was important, especially to cats like Whisperingwind. To every cat who believed there was something greater in their lives - and maybe Starclan was enough. Maybe that was reason enough to take it seriously - even if it didn’t feel like enough sometimes.

Still, as the burnt sycamore came into view, his eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of curiosity sparking beneath the surface. "So, what? You going to quiz me or something?" Maybe he wasn’t thrilled. "Or should I start reciting...?" There was some hesitance there, as if maybe he wasn't as prepared for this as he should have been.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw sat across from Heronsong, tail curled tightly around his paws. His ears flicked at her prompt, and he glanced up at the twisted, blackened limbs of the sycamore. He exhaled and nodded, casting a short glance toward Heronsong before starting.

"Uh… Before all else shall your Clan be your life." He began, a little stiffly. "And… give for its safety your blood in battle’s strife." He hesitated, brow furrowing as he searched the rest of it from memory. "Though family you’ll have, and friends may be gained… no honor above your Clan should be maintained." He flicked an ear, taking a calculating pause as he gathered his thoughts.

Duskpaw gave Heronsong a sideways look, then pushed on. "Respect be always in each word you say… and learn to treat all in the same noble way. Suffer never shall helpless and innocent kit, and claws must never a medicine cat hit."

His voice steadied slightly with the rhythm of the lines. "Territories must each Clan maintain… so the Clan may hunt and fresh kill be gained. But paws of a Clan to their own land must stay… to keep borders secured and marked every day.”

Another breath. "Know the prey in your home is StarClan’s gift… so hunt must you always remembering thrift. Food first shall go to Clan members in need… then may a warrior who hunted then feed."He trailed off a moment, his voice quieter when it came back. "Never in cold blood shall you cause a loss… unless that cat StarClan’s code does cross."

A pause.

He looked away then, jaw tight, eyes fixed somewhere far past Heronsong’s shoulder."Something like that, anyway... 'lives be saved?"His mouth held shut like a stone, only giving her a stiff nod if she asked if he could climb. He believed he climbed well enough, if escaping the camp bramble walls were anything to go by. A small tree or two, maybe. Not something quite so big or so dead.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw blinked up at her, briefly stunned by how casually she launched herself up the burnt trunk. His ears flicked back. He stared at the gnarled bark and its rough edges. Shadows clung to its crevices, and the higher limbs swayed slightly in the breeze.

He was silent. The bark bit at his pads as he climbed, claws digging for grip. It wasn’t graceful, but it was determined. A grunt escaped him as he scrambled up behind Heronsong, the branch creaking faintly beneath his weight when he found footing beside her and shifted to balance himself better.

His gaze flicked downward for a moment. The ground looked farther than he expected. His claws instinctively tightened around the bark. His next breath was quieter. "...Do you ever think about how high you're climbing when you're doing it?" He asked, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to answer yes or no.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw watched her leap to the next branch, his ears twitching as it creaked faintly beneath her. Her words echoed in his ears, but he kept his eyes fixed on the branch just ahead of him, one forepaw edging along the bark. "Yeah… I guess that makes sense." He murmured, not quite meeting her gaze. "Knowing your way down before you go too far up."

He adjusted his footing slightly, tail out for balance, then crouched and sprang to follow her. His landing wasn’t smooth he wobbled, claws scrambling briefly for hold but he didn’t fall. Once he steadied, he let out a breath through his nose, his fur still prickled with the wind that bit at his flanks.

"It's a useful skill...birds and squirrels nest in trees in newleaf, and many predators can't climb after you..." He wasn't much for small talk, and maybe if he was more empathetic he would have asked after how Heronsong was, but instead chose to be quiet in that matter.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw’s ears tilted back at the mention of fun, like it was a foreign word spoken in the wrong language. He glanced sidelong at Heronsong, his expression unreadable for a long moment. But he didn’t argue.

He looked down again, then slowly up - higher into the tree, where the branches thinned and stretched against the gray sky like bones. Maybe it could be fun. Or maybe she just had better memories of being an apprentice than he did.

He shifted slightly as she continued, her words gentler now, less instruction and more... care. He didn’t know what to do with that either. Still, he listened, paws gripping the bark as the wind ran cold across their pelts.

"Hmm." He said after a long silence, his voice quiet. "It makes sense." His tail twitched as he mulled over her words. "It's just... hard. To remember how to relax when everything feels like it could fall apart again at any moment." Jeez. Maybe he should go out in the territory...on his own. Didn't matter if there was a killer on the loose.

Duskpaw looked over at her then, a little more direct. "But I guess you don’t need claws out all the time just to be ready. Right?"

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw watched her leap, his ears twitching at the sound of claws catching bark again. He didn’t follow this time he stayed where he was, crouched on his branch. Heronsong's words sat with him in the stillness.

He paused, glancing out toward the canopy. "I don’t think I know how to enjoy things when I’m always waiting for the next bad thing." There was no drama in his voice. Maybe boredum. Like it was something he hadn’t meant to say aloud but couldn’t quite stop. He'd have to get better at that. He wasn't much good at enjoying things in general, a malaise of sorts, maybe. He assumed that would change once he became a warrior.

Still, he looked back to her and smiled. "But you make it look easy. What's your secret?" He lifted himself from his branch and took a measured look at the one higher, assessing slowly.