Description - Une carte représentant une femme-chatte à la fourrure rayée marron et orange, portant des cheveux bleus et des yeux jaunes et souriant en regardant vers la caméra, avec une posture un peu pin-up ; sur fond bleu.
"Brownfur had a difficult conversation with Oakshade, and they now have a deeper understanding of each other."
A disagreement between mentors leads to a conversation between warriors.
"And that's what not to do!" Brownfur shouts, making Dustypaw startle. She jumps up from the ditch where mentors were hiding and crosses to the center of the clearing in long, easy strides. The sun beats down hot from where it hangs high in the sky, dry dust kicking up from Dustypaw and Auburnpaw's feet as they trudge out from their own hiding spot in the brush.
A now-empty snare lays limply around a half-eaten pile of berries, its loop pulled loose by the rabbit's short struggle to get free. She barely even has to pick it up before the rest of it comes undone in her hands.
"Your knots were too lose, and you tied them in reverse. I'm surprised it even managed to catch something at all." She tosses the rope unceremoniously back into the dust. "Fix it, until there's a rabbit for dinner or the sun goes down. Whichever comes first."
"...yes ma'am," Auburnpaw mutters meekly. He hasn't looked away from the dirt.
"I can't hear you when you mumble," Brownfur says, with all the warmth of a river in winter. Auburnpaw's eyes snap up.
"Yes, ma'am!" he squeaks.
"Good." She says sharply, "Now tie it again."
"You can't just yell at him like that," Oakshade says as Brownfur slips back into the shade at the edge of the clearing. The two mentors had been watching the hunting practice, keeping a careful eye the apprentices that were currently huddling to reset their failed snare. "They're not going to respond to it."
Brownfur huffs at Oakshade's comment, almost entertained by the idea. "I've taught plenty of rogue kids this way, and they've survived just fine."
"Maybe they seem fine, but they'll just end up being afraid of you. Look at him - he's too nervous to even tie the line, let alone set a trap right," she says, nodding to where Auburnpaw is fumbling with his knots while Dustypaw tries to scoop up the fallen berries and brush away the dirt.
"A little fear can be a healthy motivator." Brownfur raises an eyebrow. "Just because you like to go soft on them doesn't mean I have to be."
"Excuse me?!" Oakshade balks. Brownfur just shrugs.
"It's no wonder these kids are so sloppy and don't have any sense of discipline, when you let them run around doing whatever they want and coo at them when they make a mistake. It's disgraceful. It makes them act like helpless babies."
Oakshade bristles. "They're 12! They might be training apprentices, but they're still children, and children need to be taught and not shamed. In Tarnclan we never-"
"Well, we aren't in Tarnclan, are we." Brownfur spits, her dark amber eyes boring straight into Oakshade's.
"No." Oakshade says, her grey eyes hard as stone. "We're not. But just because we're not in my clan anymore, doesn't mean I need to teach them like they're out in the wilds. You might have been a rogue, and survived on your own, and taught the kids you found to do the same thing, but we don't have to do that."
Brownfur has gone silent, watching Oakshade with a strange expression.
"They have a clan now, and a community to help and that helps them in return," Oakshade continues, "And it's our job right now to do that. To help them, and encourage them, and make sure they grow up confident and curious. Not make them feel like if they make a mistake it's their life on the line."
Brownfur looks away.
"You may think it's all roses and sunshine out here, Oakshade, but you have no idea what's coming for those kids," she says, gesturing to the apprentices. Dustypaw's gotten his ankle caught in the now correctly tied snare. Auburnpaw is laughing at him as he struggles to get out of it, the stress of Brownfur's lecture seemingly forgotten for the time being.
"This place isn't going to be kind once they have to make choices like warriors instead of children." Brownfur's voice softens, strangely, in a way that Oakshade has never heard before. "One day it will be their life on the line. And they need to be ready for when that happens."
Oakshade doesn't reply. Instead, the two mentors watch their apprentices playing in the sun, and for a moment they can forget that catching the rabbit is to make sure they eat dinner tonight, or that they train to fight because they train to kill or be killed.
Winter is coming, and Brownfur isn't wrong that the world outside has claws and teeth. But for now the boys are young, and happy, and there will be more rabbits. And sometimes apprentices can be children - there will be plenty of time later for them to grow up.
