pafp BRIGHT DAYS | spar?

[softheart]

Softheart's bought in a bird that has taken all day to find, but he's secure in the knowledge that this was his place, hasn't always been, but he knows the territory better than his previous home, which was largely limited to a patch of grass and a tree. He's sort of floating around camp, armed with his distant stare and dazed smile. Prey deposited onto the freshkill pile he steers somewhere else.

Sparring is certainly not anything that appeals to him, anything with danger has him tumbling, or rolling, a ragdoll ball of fluff and vague, never quite fully expressed confusion. But he's wanted to do all the things that his fellow clanmates enjoy, and he's proud to say he's conquered many of these. Sparring however. That is a different story. He's unsure where he's ghosting, letting his paws direct him. "Hi..." The dazed curl of his lips turns upwards, trailing off as per usual, unable to maintain concentration for any meaningful amount of time. "Want to spar? Warriors spar." He offers out of nowhere, as if the feline he's offering to toss his paws at needs any assurance.

/@TIGGERBOUNCE
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[TIGGERBOUNCE]

Tiggerbounce tipped his head to one side, considering the cat before him. He hadn't really sparred since his days in the marsh group, surrounded by much tougher cats than he was at heart. Perhaps it would do him some good to practice! He was without his booties and his coat today - his owner had left before he had even woken up for the day - so his movements could be worked on...

"Sure!" the jolly tabby responded with a grin. With that, he dropped himself (rather playfully) into a wavering hunter's crouch. "I'm not very good at fighting stuff so I think you'll have quite the advantage!" He felt to be true enough - his mother had always told him that he needed more discipline, more focus, when she was teaching him how to spar for the first time. And the second time. And the sixtieth.

Yet still, despite his tummy and lack of practice, he shot forward, his body low and tucked as all good marsh group soldiers were taught. He went for Softheart's legs first, moving to catch them with one sweeping paw and then headbutt his opponent up and off-balance if successful. speech is in #ffd2d8​

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[TWITCHBOLT]

He didn't really trust Softheart in charge of anything- so to hear the dozing tom volunteer himself for something pro-active was a little surprising, even if one of the volunteers was a more... relaxed face along their ranks. Wouldn't it be better to face an opponent who didn't outright admit they were no good? Chattering teeth snapped shut- no, no, it probably wouldn't be too encouraging to suggest Softheart face, say, Silversmoke instead, who would likely kick him into WindClan...

Tiggerbounce threw himself into it- and Twitchbolt settled into his spectator's position. His face wasn't quite the picture of confidence- in fact, it was crumpled into his usual wince, only slightly softened by the reassurance that neither of the sparring toms were in any actual danger. Oh, but he'd worry for them both in a real fight. Maybe... maybe observing would be good, to offer them some advice, if they wanted it- if they needed it- when they needed it. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

What a bad day it was to have eyes. While spars usually excited Silversmoke and got his blood pumping when the chaos of clan life became too much, hearing that there was to be a spar between Softheart and Tiggerbounce was like hearing that two turtles were duking it out. Movements would inevitably be sluggish, motives would inevitably be poor, and no one would be better off for having watched it, save for those who found enjoyment in humour that made one squirm. Still, he had a duty as a lead warrior to make sure everyone's skills were up to scratch... that included cats that would be utterly hopeless in real combat. The spotted tabby settled close to Twitchbolt, on his haunches but not relaxing. Silversmoke leaned forward, eyeing the spar like a hawk. "I can't decide who will win," he murmured to the Deputy. "They're both... challenged. I can train with them both afterwards if need be." The fact that he asked for permission, instead of simply doing was indicative of the fact that Silversmoke didn't want to. Trying to teach Dawnglare about combat had been frustrating enough for him, he was not keen to be the one to toughen up a timid cat and an oblivious one.

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[QUILLSTRIKE]

DARK BLUE, DARK BLUE, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM?​

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Quillstrike, much like Silversmoke, was a fan of good fight regardless of weather it was a friendly spar or an all out brawl. Maybe because he was just good at it and liked to take pride in something he knew he excelled in, or maybe the adrenaline rush was just the only break in his monotonous life that he enjoyed, but regardless, he was a fan. Of course, Softhearts call hadn't drawn him over to offer himself up as a participant- call him arrogant, but there wouldn't be much a fight in his opinion. No, instead he'd made his way over out of sheer curiosity, and maybe just a touch of amusement.

Softheart and Tiggerbounce sparring? He was interested to see just what their definition of it was.

"At least you can assess where they'll need work." Quillstrike offered as he took his place on the other side of Twitchbolt, dark tabby fur pressing against his mates. "Softhearts all fluff and fur- doesn't even like to get it dirty. Tiggers got weight on him- my preys on him." he added after a moment of contemplation, voice kept low so as to not disturb the sparring cats.

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skyclan - male - 24 months (Feb 17th) - bisexual - homoromantic - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.