"Okay, now, the first thing you must do is spot your prey."

My father had come to take us for a lesson just after we woke up. We were all hungry, but he said we would get plenty of food on our little outing.

We were on the border that separated our lands from the crawler lands. My father had deemed crawlers a good place to start, because they were not all that fast and tasted even better than fish. We would do twisters another time, since they can easily wriggle out of ones grasp.

My father was in a ready position; low to the ground, back hunched, shoulders up, ready to spring. We were behind a fairly large rock, with a bunch of crawlers fishing at a river directly in front of us.

"Next, you creep forward, staying low. Be strong and silent." he said. He crept forward, following his own instructions. He darted behind another rock as soon as one came up.

"Now, keep focused on your target, and, quick as a flash," he rushed forward like lightning and grabbed the shell of a small crawler, pulling it back with him, "you grab your prey, and crush it."

He had gone so quick that none of the crawlers had really noticed one had dissapear. How dumb were they?

He tossed the carcass off to the side. "We'll eat them later. Now only one each, we don't want to wipe out the entire population of crawlers." he said sarcastically. We laughed silently.

"I wanna go! I wanna go!" Striker said.

"Okay, pup, remember your ready position." my father said to him. Striker got into the perfect ready position, as usual, and prepared to strike. Almost as fast as my father, he leeaped forward and grabbed himself a crawler. He had taken from a group of babies crowded near their mother. My sisters and I would probably get the babies too, it would be easier for up.

"Good job, son." my father said. "Swiftstep, now you."

Swiftspep was less perfect, the baby slipped from her grasp once, and she had to get it again. But she got it eventually.

Silvertoes went next. She missed the crawler on her first try, but got it on the second. A few of the adults had noticed, this time. I would have to go fast.

As I moved closer, the stench of crawlers filled my nose. It was terribly strong, and I didn't much like it. I was tempted to throw my paw over my nose to block out the smell, but I knew that if I wanted to satisfy my father, I couldn't.

Finally, I was within pouncing distance. I leapt forward, and, much to my surprise, managed to latch my claws on an unsuspecting baby crawler! I pulled back. The crawler wiggled, but I crushed its head before it could move much. I hadn't done as good as my father or Striker, but I had done okay.
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"Fishing," my father was saying, "Is easier, if you know what to do."

We were back at a river in our own terittory. Since we had only spent about three hours on the crawlers, father decided that we had enough time to practice fishing.

We were in the center of the river. There were a few other gnawers around, but most had already done their fishing for the day. We were all in standing positions; my back paws were tickled as the smaller fish nipped them.

"Now, all you must do is spear a fish with your second claw," father held out his claw as an example, "and you have it."

He speared an unsuspecting fish with his claw and pulled it up. It was fairly large and extremely scaly. It looked tasty. Father tossed it onto the near riverbank.

This time, we could all try at the same time, because the fish always came back. They were even stupider than the crawlers!

I missed my first three tries, but on the fourth, I managed to spear a small grayish one! I pulled it up and took a bite out of it right away.

"Mmmm." I said. My siblings were all trying their fish, too. This river had by far the tastiest fish I'd ever had, or maybe it was just the satisfaction of catching it myself.

We caught more and more fish, all of the ones in our area. I liked fishing much better than hunting; it was easier to do and involved less movement.

Suddenly, my nose practically exploded! I smelled a really large fish, a little ways down the river. I hopped out onto the riverbank and crept down. Finally, a saw a silver glint in the water, a big one! There was a nice fish, at least two feet long, there! I ducked down and managed to grab it in my claws. It wriggled, but I continuously poked it with my sharpest claw, and after a short while without water, it died. I ran back to my father and siblings with it.

"All right, Twitchtip!" Striker shouted when he saw it. He jumped on top of me, and we started another game of chase-and-tackle.

I was focused on the game, but as my father watched us, I smelled a different smell on him, one I had only ever smelled on my mother. Love.