Honeybite was rather pleased that the young cat was quick to be ready.
With a nod of her head, she turned to leave the camp, and to show the new territory to her apprentice. It would be a new experience for the both of them.
She felt guilt for not taking Fogpaw sooner, but it seemed to be for the best, as she'd just have to have taken him on yet another one after the moving of camps. She had a vague idea the direction of their borders and territory markers.
"Eventually, Fogpaw. I will save those for last. I'd like to introduce you to our new territory markers first, and get a general lay out of the land."
She led the apprentice, first to a foggy marshland, covered in a variety of tall grasses, and decorated with pine trees. The ground was soft and mushy beneath their paws, but not quite a proper muddy substance to cling to the fur.
Good, she did not wish to have need to clean herself when they left.
As her paw steps carried her forward, tail ever so slightly swishing behind her, she could hear the echoing croaks of frogs, just waiting to be caught by a deft enough hunter.
Although the sound tempts her to begin the hunt, she decides the dense fogs to be far too treacherous of a starting point for her young apprentice.
She sniffs, and turns her nose for the briefest of moments before passing a spot she's almost certain has a whole brood of toads, ripe for the picking, so to speak, were the fog not so suffocating of the senses.
"This," she begins,
"is Darkwater Mire. As dense as the fog might be, it is rich and absolutely teeming with prey. I will one day teach you to hunt in these foggy lands, but I will first have you perfect hunting where the environment does not work against you."
She looks back to Fogpaw, who is only a vague outline from where she stands.
Her fur bristles, and she turns around, taking a few steps in his direction.
"Hmmm, perhaps stick a little closer to me. I do not like when I can't see you. I will walk slower. Tell me if I begin to outpace you, alright?"
As she pads further, the fog begins to ease, and the fire-patched warrior begins to breathe easier. The heavy air no longer stifles and chokes up her lungs, her nose, her sight.
It brings Honeybite relief to see again, even as the calls of frogs are replaced with the steading humming of insects, and the occasional sound of light kncking sound filled the air around them.
She looks around, and spots mossy grounds, occasionally interspersed with thick grasses, not nearly as tall as those that had inhabited the bog, but just as dewy and a menace to walk through. She opted to walk wherever springy moss covered the path instead, and kept a wide berth between them and the reaching grasses that seemed intent on making her miserable and positively coated in wet muck.
Around them, the pines are replaces with spruce trees, and at the base a variety of bushes, the berries bright and red. She stiffened as the cloyingly sweet scent of the berries and wet bark filled her senses, and takes a step back before stopping entirely.
She turns to Fogpaw.
Do not touch those bushes, dearest. The berries are dangerous, and can kill you before anyone might know something is wrong."
She wasn't sure why they would claim a potential hazard as part of their territory, but as it was, there was no changing it, and it would simply be another obstacle to have to navigate around.
//So, SO sorry for how long this took me to get around to
Thank you so much for your patience with me
\\
[ @
MangofDoom ]