Quote:
Originally Posted by .:Moonfang:.
He saw Honeythistle lost in thought and stopped, breathing, trying to catch his breath but then he spoke to him, Whitepaw snarled. "This is stupid! I swear, when I'm leader, I'll ban running stupid laps!" And through you out of the clan you overgrown rat! he thought to himself, eyes narrowing in anger. He was done biting his tongue, now he was going to let loose. "Shouldn't you teach me? Shouldn't you treat me with some kind of respect instead of punishing me for something so small? Don't you know who I am? Who my mother is? If I tell her you did this she'll surely punish you!" he snapped walking towards the large tom. Size never intimidated him- nothing really did. "And what if I tell Goldeneye too? Double punishment!" He snarled. His muscles ached, and he knew that him being worn out would be a big disadvantage if he decided to attack. Hearing his deal he growled and stepped to the stick. He thought about whether it would be worth it but he needed to relieve his anger anyways. So he lifted his paw, unsheathed his claws, and he sliced at the branch. He only was able to cut it halfway. He looked up at the tom. "Isn't that enough? I don't even know how to fight because someone won't train me, so isn't that impressive enough?" He asked, anger flowing in his voice.
{ sorry its short }
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Honeythistle stared at his apprentice with a grim expression. It was no doubt that Honeythistle was getting tired of his apprentice. This apprentice who believed he was so high and mighty just because he was the leader’s kit.
“Yeah, whine all you like, but in the end in still the mentor and you're still the apprentice.” His voice was dark, dripping with danger. Honeythistle took time out his life, soemthing he could be doing to spend with his kits, to train an apprentice who likes to lollygag and come around late, and not expect to be punished.
“That is not how the world works. Respect is earned, and so far coming late to training sessions, being too full of yourself, and using that oh-my-mother-is-Halestar card will not land you anywhere!” Honeythistle snarled, getting up to his paws.
“I'm doing what a mentor is suppose to do. You're the one not listening, and Halestar respects me greatly as I respect her--so does Goldeneye. But go ahead do what you please. I'll be glad to rid you out my presence, because all I'm trying to do is make you one of the best warriors, and you can't even take a bit of aggression without pouting like a little girl!” Honeythistle gloated. He was much older than this small cat for sure. He could end his life just with a simple hit of his wide large paws. But Honeythistle was never that violent. He believed that tough love was the best training there could be. His own mentor was much more harsh than he was being on Whitepaw. Honeythistle felt that he was being lenient compared to how he was treated as an apprentice.
“But if you feel you need a new mentor--go ahead, ask for one. I'm not stopping you.” Honeythistle shrugged as he got up and surveyed the stick, albeit not cut all the way. It was what he suspected; Whitepaw was still weak. His yellow green eyes observed the stick and he went towards another corner of the stick to slice it swiftly in half. The part of the stick broke, becoming two pieces, but one of the pieces was half bent from Whitepaw’s slash. Upon the tom’s words, Honeythistle was observing his claws, making sure he didn't get any splinters within them before he sheathed them again. It took him a while to get back to Whitepaw, as he was deliberately being silent. Then, he did speak.
“I don't know who you're getting an attitude with. I'll tell your mother that you're being disrespectful, and on top of that; how am I supposed to teach anything if you like to skip out on training sessions? Honestly you don't have to like me, but I'm not wasting my time to train you if you rather be Goldeneye’s apprentice.” A sudden thought flashed in The large Maine coon’s mind. Did this kit really think he would be the
leader? At first it had went over his head, but then he started laughing. Shadowclan would be dumb to have him as a leader, let alone a deputy. But as Honeythistle laughed at this thought, he told the tom.
“Oh yeah--good job on that stick. Try sharpening your claws more to get it to split into two.” He cleared his voice, stopping his laugh.
“The only way I would teach you how to fight, is if you become serious about your life and what you want to do with it. I don't play games, Whitepaw. If not, don't waste my time. I have kits I can be spending time with but everyday I wait here for you to come! Some days you don't! And other days you do--but you be late. What apprentice would be worthy to learn a few battling moves if you're not serious?” Honeythistle lashed his tail. He didn't care about how angry the small cat became. One thing he needed to know, from being a spoiled brat, he would be treated like any other apprentice. Who cares who his mother was? In battle would he play that card
Do you know who my mother is? Because in battle no one cared about who his mother was. They would kill him surely, and Honeythistle didn't want that! He didn't have to love Whitepaw, but he had to train him well and hard so that his mother would be proud of him, but Whitepaw only seen the bad things that Honeythistle was doing, and so far? That was fine with the large tom. He was old enough to know that cats made their own choices.