[Casual Scribbles]

"Sorry, Swiftfang, I'm a bit out of practice." Burrpaw quickly shifted his position, watching for any sign of alarm from the prey. It still sat there, half-buried in the mud. Now the tabby apprentice's paws were pulled beneath him. He kept his hind-quarters down, despite the slight discomfort he felt. I'll catch something else later... The tom's tangled fur collected more leaves, adding to the mess. He pulled himself forward a little bit, then sprang, landing squarely on top of the amphibian. Burrpaw slammed a paw down over its head, killing the poor creature instantly. The apprentice lifted up the frog in his jaws and looked to his mentor with bright, hopeful eyes. "Did I do it right?" His voice was muffled, but bright again, still smoother than honey. It was the exact opposite of his fur. His cleaning habit was once every moon, for the gathering, incase he were chosen to go.