[lone]

Originally Posted by Nighty

Rusticash sat to the side, his red typed tail flicking over his paws. It held a constant twitch, something he did to stay moving whilst sitting. He didn't exactly like the though if sitting perfectly still, so he kept a part of him moving, even if it was a small thing. His dull green eyes tracked the apprentice as she made the laps around the clearing. He watched different parts, her legs and their stride. He watched how she took her steps, long and wide; which was good for her, as short and fast ones would cause her to loose energy faster. He watched her flank which he could see faintly heaving up and down. She seemed to be taking steady greats, another good factor. She had to breath deep, as it would help keep a steady, rhythmic pace. As he watched he indicated on her form, her movements. He could see her muscles how them seemed to propel her onwards steadily. She was holding good form, he came to the conclusion though that it could be the actual speed rather than how she did it. Or maybe it was how long she could endure running, he wasn't sure yet.

Now he thought about trying some different things. Rusticash stood once again, letting his tail hang loosely behind him. "Keep up the work, I'll be right back." He called before padding off. Then a moment later he returned, his jaws clamped around a dead branch of a pine tree. It's tips were covered in dull brown green needles, dying from lack of nutrients. As he tugged it to the clearing, he let it go and it bounced to the ground. "Keep going. When you think you're ready change course and jump the limb. This will help when running in the territory. For our land is not like Windclan.mee have sticks, stones, bushes, roots, things that will trip you up. If you can learn to avoid them, you could be unstoppable." He instructed a tad but harshly. His voice had an edge to it. One of commanding and authority. He wanted her to be the best. The best fighter, the best runner. His sister was fast, and skilled, but she would be no match for them.

The white feline was beginning to grow tired. She was pacing herself the best she could, but this was ridiculous-- she could only run for so long! Still, Clawpaw kept going, obediantly. This was good for her. Rusticash knew what he was doing. He'd better, she thought with a twinge of rebellion before continuing onwards. Not even a sarcastic remark left her maw. She knew better. Clawpaw wasn't necessarily obedient. That, along with her not being the best of the best, could get her in trouble someday. And she couldn't rely on her mentor to get her out. From what she knew of him, Rusticash didn't seem to be the kind of cat to come running when his apprentice fell into trouble. And could she blame him? Well...technically, no, she couldn't. He knew better then she did. He'd been around for longer, he'd trained longer, and although she hated to admit it-- he was smarter then she was. But someday, she would probably surpass him-- as long as she kept working.
The one thing Clawpaw wanted was acceptance and approval. From everyone, to be honest...but just as long as she had it from some, she didn't need it from everyone. Clawpaw's pace slowed a little, her rythm falling as she listened to the older tom's words. Got it. Change course, jump the limb. She thought, continuing to run in the same pattern as she tried to regain her rythm that she had held before. The white she cat had never been the best with this sort of thing. Sure, she was...okay at it, but good? That might be stretching the truth just a little bit. It was definitely her greatest weakness. Hunting and fighting were just great! She was good at both of those. She'd just never seen a need for speed and agility, so had sort of given up on practicing those two things. After a few more minutes, the she cat's hues narrowed and she turned, changing course and heading straight for the limb. There seemed like there was a lot to remember when getting ready to jump:
Balanced, don't slow down, you'll lose your drive; don't jump too low, you can always go higher; spring with your back legs, not front. Everything she'd learned was spinning around in her mind, making her dizzy. And then, at the last second, the she cat sprang through the air. She felt herself trip, realizing she hadn't jumped high or long enough. "Stupid." Clawpaw muttered, getting to her paws. That was definitely going to need some work. She was an older apprentice now-- she should have been able to do that! Was there something wrong with her?