Written in the Stars

Pouncefox hadn't been chosen as Nightclan's next deputy. 
Pouncefox was just a measly warrior with the duty of training a young, and annoying apprentice.

The rusty colored tom gracefully padded across the sunken row-boat, avoiding the pieces of rotten wood sticking up, ready to strike soft paw pads. A bird chirped above their heads and he peered up into the dense foliage, but saw nothing except a blazing sun and rustling leaves. Pouncefox leaped onto the bayou forest floor, his paws slightly sinking into the muddiness, his paws protected by the thicker layer of moss and dead foliage.

Whipping his head to look at Garpaw, his eyes narrowed. It was obvious the warrior was not in a good mood. Was he ever in a good mood though? His large ears flicked as a mosquito buzzed near them.

"I brought you here because this is OUR territory. You must learn to fight and hunt in even the worst areas of the bayou" The tom retorted back firmly. He waited for Garpaw to join him on the ground, grumbling lowly as he waited for her impatiently.

"First lesson," Pouncefox tapped his paw upon a large rock, claw marks etched into the top. It was obvious that once plants like moss and lichens and vines had made their home atop it, but they were ripped out to expose the pure rock. 

"These rocks? They mark solid land. It feels muddy beneath us, but it's safe. Look out for these. If you step somewhere where you'll sink into the mud, I'm NOT pulling you out" Pouncefox snorted as he then turned around and began following a narrow path through the gangly trees and thick foliage.

Parting his jaws slightly, Pouncefox let the scents flow through his nose and mouth, trying to identify any prey item that may be lurking about.