private CARELESS WHISPER // robinpaw

[brookstorm]

"Could you be anymore awkward?" Brookpaw huffs towards the tortoiseshell apprentice, ears angling back as she does. Her tone almost matches that of the one she used last time - judgmental, venomous, intentional - if not for her demeanor to appear far more tame. They were humbled, every last one of them, by the rogues that they each thought were nothing more than menaces. Brookpaw can admit that. And in admitting that she knows that picking fights with her fellow apprentices, especially ones as abhorrent as Robinpaw, is unneeded. Still, she is clipped and curt with her words, tail twitching low behind her.

"C'mon. Spar with me," Brookpaw eggs the other on, eyebrows stitched together, "If Smokethroat is going to let you out of the nursery, then you will not make a fool out of the rest of us." It'd be nice to dig her claws into the ungrateful (by her standards) Robinpaw, all while providing Willowroot a progressed apprentice. Her paws flex and she nods to the other, "Give me your best. StarClan knows you've wanted to since our last... talk," and she hopes so dearly that the red bird caught in a cat's body will flutter wildly, mar her pelt and give her a reason to laugh or cry. Make me feel something, she neglects to say, simply waiting for the other.

@robinpaw. ​

 

[robinheart]

There is no denying the annoyance radiating from the tortoiseshell’s pelt as Brookpaw’s huffed words reach delicate ears. She is already silently stewing over the apprentice-only interaction she had had earlier - a simple misunderstanding of words that earned her a correction befitting a kit. Robinpaw wishes she had never spoken, just as she wishes Brookpaw had not been there to overhear her blunder. ”Could you be anymore mean?” Robinpaw fires back, nonexistent brow quirked high as she pivots on her heels to face the stone hued apprentice.

What Brookpaw says next catches her by surprise. Spar? With Brookpaw?! Unless paired up by mentors for training, Robinpaw had not anticipated being asked to spar in her precious free time. She nearly refuses, wanting to cite that Willowroot and Lichentail were not present to offer feedback, but Brookpaw successfully eggs Robinpaw on by striking at her insecurities. Her lack of training would surely make RiverClan look a fool while they bunkered down in SkyClan… Robinpaw had already been made a fool once, she was not wanting to repeat that shame before the two clans again.

The multicolored apprentice barely gives Brookpaw time to finish speaking before darting towards her, head low and shoulders squared in an attempt to body slam Brookpaw in the chest. She has no game plan, merely hoping to knock the other off her paws to buy Robinpaw more time.

 

[brookstorm]

Brookpaw clicks her tongue, rolling her eyes. She wouldn't call her behavior mean... in the same way she wouldn't call the entire situation they're in fun. Which is just to say that her intent isn't exactly aligned with her actions, but she is entirely too aware of the strife she's placing between herself and the other apprentice. Still, her offer (more like, demand,) stands tall and Robinpaw takes it all too quickly.

Green eyes widen as the mottled apprentice barrels towards her. RiverClan cats are thick furred, hardy folks - meaning as the other apprentice collides with her, it damn near knocks the air out of Brookpaw's chest. She has only seconds to brace herself but she does, and she in turn makes her attempts to deflect the other's bold attack by shoving back. Even if she's only afforded a few mouselengths of space, Brookpaw hops upwards, claws stretched out to grasp Robinpaw's shoulders in an attempt to thereafter slam her down.​

 

[robinheart]

She is inexperienced in the worst of ways, having only tussled as a young kit with her siblings before falling ill near her apprenticeship. Being held back and inadvertently coddled didn’t do the multicolored apprentice justice, especially now as her hastily made move did not result in her anticipated outcome. Brookpaw braces like a boulder upon impact, staying on her paws and shoving back with enough force to send Robinpaw glancing to the side.

She stumbles over paws somewhat too big for her own body and tries to right herself, orienting her frame to prepare for another move against the other apprentice. But in her near tumble she has afforded Brookpaw the opportunity to rise up and snag charcoal shoulders with ivory claws, gravity hastened by toned muscles slamming Robinpaw into the ground. The air in her lungs is forced out painfully, earning a strangled hiss as the apprentice struggles beneath Brookpaw’s paws. Bracing her back feet into the ground, Robinpaw attempts to leap forward and upward, aiming to ram the top of her head into the other’s chest or chin. All she has to do is get out from under Brookpaw and give herself a small amount of distance to stand a chance.

 

[brookstorm]

With her attack landing and Robinpaw hissing in pain, Brookpaw feels an ounce of satisfaction. Sure, she's not wanting to hurt the other, but it's an added, mishandled bonus. The blue she-cat wavers for too long, mouth opening to spout something judgmental (and loosely lesson-adjacent,) when Robinpaw shoots upwards with gusto. The blunt of the multicolored girl's head collides with Brookpaw's chest and this time, she does not have the chance to brace herself.

It's less like being winded and more like a stinging pain, as much of the impact landed far too close to her throat to provide her with easy breathing. Brookpaw stumbles backwards, hacking and coughing as she tries to regain her breath. She rights herself, standing tall for a moment and seethes towards Robinpaw. Her ears attempt to fold against her head as she does what Robinpaw initially tried to do. She rushes forward, attempting to clock her shoulder into the other's chest. If the hit lands, she follows through, placing sheathed paws on a red-and-black chest and holding the other down.

"Not bad," she speaks, though it's far from traditional praise, "Maybe when we take back camp, you'll hold your own. Against a kitten," her expression shifts into something undefined, "Has no one taught you to use your claws?"​

 

[robinheart]

There is no time to feel smug over her attack, though Robinpaw may feel that way days from now when she reflects on the spar, but for now she takes advantage of Brookpaw’s backwards stumble whilst ignoring the gentle throb of her own head from the impact. The multicolored apprentice gets back to her paws and takes a step back, making sure to plant her paws while she watches her opponent. Brookpaw regains her breath and stands tall - Robinpaw can almost feel the seething anger radiating off the other. Perhaps that should have been her sign to anticipate a bold move. But she anticipates another grappling move and expects Brookpaw to strike from above again.

She does not anticipate the sudden bolt forward and shoulder slammed into her chest. The stiffness of her limbs betrays her ability to move away from the recoil, instead she takes the full force hit and slams into the ground, Brookpaw holding her firmly to the dust.

Robinpaw wheezes and grunts for only a moment, willing herself to shove Brookpaw off but finding her lungs and spine burn too much to do so right now. Instead she glares up at the other while she begins to speak - insulting the tortie’s sparring abilities by comparing them to the skill level of a kit. Robin knows she is behind, but it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it aloud. Then Brook’s expression shifts and she asks a question that makes the other’s ears burn slightly. “I know how to use my claws,” Robin retorts, pupils fixed on the ghostly grey apprentice above her before drifting to stare off at the distant sky, unwilling to look at Brookpaw for her concluding statement, “I just didn’t want to accidentally hurt you.”