pafp Cold Wind and Bitter Claws | sparring

[TIGERFROST]

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The brute had hunted for the day, had eaten what scraps remained, had groomed the mud and ice from his fur. Now he found himself sitting in the cold with eyes that wandered the clearing idly. Tigerfrost was not the type to stand around and do nothing, but for the moment, it seemed he had been afforded a break. Another was watching Dandelionwish, and the evening patrols had already been sent out to hunt and renew the borders. Who remained? His pupils shift across the faces of his clan-mates curiously.

"I could use some more exercise to keep the cold out of my bones." A simple comment, gruff as always and not directed toward any particular cat. His tail flicks against the ground for a moment as he thinks of his solution. "Would anyone like to spar?" It would make for good practice, though the Warriors of WindClan would be wise not to injure each other too badly. Many were still hurt from the raid, and undoubtedly, the medicinal herb supply would be low. Still, so long as it was not a real fight, no cat should be wounded too much.

@HOUNDTHISTLE ​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

The tom had slowly allowed himself more interaction this moon so far and that was exhausting. So, today, he had taken to checking the camp wall, picking through the prey pile to get rid of nasty old prey, and even found time to sun himself and get a much deserved catnap, chin rested upon his paws and eyes closed as the illusion of heat soaked into his dusty grey pelt. The only sign he was awake was a small twitching of his smaller ears as the camp bustled around him, patrols switching out, returning with prey, and so on and so on. It was nice. No screaming, no fighting, no dying. It was almost as though peace actually existed in Windclan for once, and Houndthistle took this opportunity to enjoy it, knowing from his few introspections that it probably won't last.

As he did with Sedgerunner, the call of a spar roused him. Drowsily lifting his head, blinking the meditative trance-sleep- from his eyes and letting himself yawn, the large burly tom glancing to see who spoke aloud such a challenge. His amber eyes landed on the brindle and white shape of Tigerfrost, a cat Houndthistle atleast thought... less neutrally than the rest, in a good way. He could see himself being a bit... touched if Tigerfrost was ever to be on the other side of Windclan's favor, the tom's potential and his loyalty something Houndthistle could acknowledge and appreciate. Rousing like the beast he was named after, huffing as he drew himself to large paws and made his way forward, lumbering as usual. "Mmm, my nap needa be shorter anyhow," He commented, a tinge of humor in his words. Similar to Sedgerunner, Tigerfrost was lanky, built for speed yet smaller than the average cat, and Houndthistle catalogued this, taking his own shortcomings in thought as he prepared and flexed his claws, the daggers slipping from calloused beds. "Whenever yer ready, partner," He huffed, lifting his head to stand at his full height and adjust his stance to be more defensive.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Wolfsong wonders at the spectacle a spar between Sunstride and Houndthistle could make. Tigerfrost is taller than some WindClanners, but he's still noticeably shorter than his current opponent. Not that it's a disadvantage, necessarily; in a true battle, he'd have easier access to all the vulnerable undersides. No, Wolfsong is just more accustomed to height differences in skirmishes as a relatively short feline himself, and it's been some time since Sunstride has sparred with someone near in size.

I do not know Houndthistle's skill well enough to guess the outcome— but loyalty demands I place my bets on Sunstride. Theoretically, of course. For now, this is Tigerfrost against Houndthistle, both staunch loyalists.

Wolfsong lies down on his belly, head on his paws and his single eye ever-watchful. "Are there more stakes to this fight than pride?" He asks, mouth slightly curled. "Perhaps the loser should have to be the kits' latest teething victim."
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[SUNNVAR]

In the moons since he had found himself here, Sunstride was not so open with his strengths as the others. WindClanners seemed to share their motions the way that the closest of warriors would back in his home, yet it is uniform. It is all of them, and that he finds...strange. Beyond the parading of an army, he worries that they may become too predictable. That, if he shares what he is capable of, he too would become predictable. Even to the cats that he has thrown himself so freely to, he cannot allow the full extent of this vulnerability. Individuality should be fed the way one would feed a nursing kit. To take one's weaknesses and twist. Wolfsong's height, his missing eye– he stands at the peak of warriors who had warred through disadvantages to a brighter path. All could learn from him.

Draping himself strangely across the smaller tom's form, filling the space where his scarred eye could not see, Sunstride does not think of such things, or urge Wolfsong into the fray. Instead he laughs, his own mouth split to an unrestrained grin. "Oh but they already look the part!" he teases. "Time as a teething toy would make no difference to ones so battle-worn as they are. They'll need to risk far greater than this." Still, he offers no direct alternative, leaving the floor open to any who cared to offer their own thoughts.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
  —— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[VULTUREMASK]

Sparring had never been his thing. Not even as an apprentice had he attended in spar matches with the other apprentices. The thought of someone touching him still made him feel sick, even now however compared to back then he was able to control himself better to not give one of his clanmates a face scar to remember him by. At least that was something he wouldn't have to worry about now. Just the thought of him one day becoming a mentor to battle train his own apprentice...send a shiver down his bone. So not everything was bad with his new position. There was stuff that benefited him like the physical part. No one would dare touch him now unless they wanted starclans wrath on them...soon anyway. If starclan would accept him. That was something he constantly worried about. Wouldn't suprise him either if starclan rejected him just out of spite.

" I vote on for the loser to go out there and search for their own herbs to attend to both of their injuries if they are foolish enough to get themselves hurt." he grumbled his suggestion with a bitter frown knowing very well how hard it was to find herbs in this season and here they where...wanting him to waste it on them. Tch,tch. Tigerfrost had barely even recoverd from the raid and now he wanted to risk reopening his wounds...not to mention that one he had got from...a rabbit was it?. Rumors spread like fleas. The fool hadn't even come to him to get it treated. Tch. He wasn't sure if he should feel insulted by it or feel grateful he not needed to take care of someone like them who not was on his liking list.

" I think Houndthistle is gonna win." he decided to share, seating close by but not all too close to where Wolfsong and Sunstride was, to further involve himself in this...conversation. He was not interested in spars usually, but he had to admit it would be satisfying to see Tigerfrost get his ass kicked by Houndthistle. If now this spar was going to happen since he hadn't much to say against it then...his bets was gonna be on the tom who not yet had pissed him off.



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[SOOTSTAR]

Sparring was a welcomed sight, it meant her clan was healing and growing able to once more practice such exhaustive exercises. The queen grins and pads forward to watch eagerly, not only did it strengthened her clan but it could provide good entertainment. All around a spar kept spirits high.

Wolfsong and Sunstride discuss raising the stakes, Sootstar silently listens before opening her own maw. ”Perhaps the loser wears their “paw” name for the next several days. Humility can strengthen a cat, give them the anger to do better.” She suggests with a sly smile after Vulturemask places a bet that Houndthistle will win. ”I’ll bet against that, Tigerfrost will win. I’m willing to put three hawk feathers to the bet too if you can match it.” A playful mrrow sent the medicine cats way.​

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Spoiler: TAGS ★ 01/07

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 34 moons . pisces. ages on the first
╰ ‣ windclan leader . marsh-born . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former soldier of the marsh group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like heather and wet dirt , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue smoke . scarred chest, difficult to see through fur . green eyes

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Cunning, brash, fierce, confident, self-reliant, envious & selfish
╰ ‣ finds great difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, usually shows mercy to those she can find sympathy with
╰ ‣ sole key to her heart is loyalty, if you have her trust, she often shows a completely different side of herself. Aggression tends to manifest from her extreme paranoia
╰ ‣ Appreciates titles such as "miss, m'am" etc

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· SOOT CLAW x PEBBLE BREEZE, sister to Pebblenose
╰ ‣ heterosexual. mate to Weaselclaw
╰ ‣ mother to Windpaw & Sootpaw
╰ ‣ mentor to Smokepaw & Coyotepaw
╰ ‣ average fighter . skilled hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

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[Firefang]

It was always an event for her to watch the warriors spar, especially those like Tigerfrost and those of his ilk who made up Windclan's core strength when it came to taking on threats it's a group she wished to join and she had done her best already to prove herself to them. As well as she could anyway, she lacked experience only having been in a single battle and whilst she'd like to count the chase of the two traitors that was no battle, it was the same as chasing rabbits towards a burrow; far more mouthy ones but not different in the slightest. She still has a long time to come before she's worthy and part of her wishes to surpass them, to be the strongest in Windclan an asset not just another clanmate with sharp claws and a fiery temper! It has to be her true destiny, not tunneling within the dark but shining in the light of the sun, the moon and the stars but for now she's just Firepaw; apprentice of Badgermoon and a royal thorn in the side of many of her peers. For now she continues to train in hopes her dreams would blossom into reality, for now she's just gotta be the best she can be, keep the other apprentices in check, finally catch some prey to fill the pile and right now watch those stronger and older then her to see how they did it. Badgermoon was strong in his own right, somehow battle seemed to be the only thing he was good for and it makes her tolerate him a tad more if the luxury of being the apprentice to a deputy didn't already (she chooses to ignore the fact her dirtnosed little brother was training beneath Sootstar).

She comes to sit besides Wolfsong and Sunstride, ears flicking at their musings. Kit duty sounded awful enough for her honestly, it'd inspire her to fight as hard as she could to avoid. Sunstride's remark however rubs her the wrong way, battle scars were far different then little marks kitten teeth made! They were proof of their prowess; marks that told stories of what battled they'd faced and the fact that they'd survived them. She grimaces about to snap at the lead warrior before remembering herself; it wasn't worth it she didn't want to earn the disapproval of him nor Wolfsong. Those words die in her throat and instead she meows something different even if it was hard for her to move past her 'offense'. ❝You forget that they drool and talk incessantly❞ she huffs. Vulturemask says something of his own and so does Sootstar and what she says seems far more shameful then just kit duty. No it'd be humiliating if she had to be a paw for any longer herself she'd lose her mind! It'd be so much worse if she'd already had her warrior name and was stripped of it. Her ears fold back, now that was some real stakes.

She agrees with Sootstar though, as strong as Houndthistle was Tigerfrost had proven his strength tenfold. ❝Yeah Houndthistle doesn't stand a chance❞
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( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )

 

[TIGERFROST]

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It seems his offer had drawn more than a single pair of eyes. Chatter rises through the cold air as WindClan cats draw closer to gawk. Tigerfrost's vision rests solely upon Houndthistle, though. The other tom was larger, had more mass, undoubtedly heavier. Taking a swipe from Houndthistle was something to be avoided as much as possible, but luckily for Tigerfrost, he had the typical build of a wiry WindClanner. He was long-legged but still quite small, built for agility and speed, as his opponent would have no doubt made note of. But Tigerfrost had battled larger opponents before, and won. Thistleback was one such example. Would Houndthistle topple just as quickly? This spar would be a learning experience for them both, it seemed.

He offers a nod of his head as his eyes sweep across Houndthistle's figure for any sign of weakness. The thick fur around the other tom's neck would probably hinder efforts to strike at vulnerabilities there, but his stocky legs and short tail would likely mean that Houndthistle would not be able to turn or strike quite so swiftly as Tigerfrost could. The winner of this spar would be determined by the mind, it seemed. Who could outplay the other?

Tigerfrost darts closer, his hind legs kicking off from the cold ground like mechanical springs. His lips twist and his teeth click with bared fangs as talons grip the soil for balance. He does not make a head-on approach, but appears to launch himself at Houndthistle's shoulder. It is a quick moving feint, a lie that is not betrayed by the direction of his eyes. As he appears to strike off with his hind legs again to make final contact with the flesh of Houndthistle's shoulder, he instead twists, pivots around his opponent to streak down his side instead, aiming to lash his unsheathed claws down the length of Houndthistle's ribcage as his momentum carries him past.​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

So many cats joined as he approached, their eyes upon them all, some humorous, others more serious. Few seemed to believe in his abilities-fair, considering Houndthistle had been one of the few cats to stay back during the raid, set on protecting camp incase of a retaliation-but their words fell upon deaf ears as he regarded Tigerfrost. The chimera was lean, built like majority other Windclanners, meaning Houndthistle's reflexes could lead to his doom if he doesn't watch the other carefully enough. Being offensive could lead the same, meaning he'd been right to default to defense, knowing he'd never be able to outspeed the other. He'd have to rely on his stance, his endurance, and his strength if he wished to atleast keep his dignity.

Tigerfrost moves and Houndthistle's muscles tense, preparing as the other surged toward him, quickly closing the gap between them. A smirk peeks at his lips as Tigerfrost appears to aim for his shoulder, claws digging deep into the cavern. He shifts his weight to avoid the perceived attack, not realizing his mistake until too late and Tigerfrost darts to lash across his ribs, claws dragging through fur and catching upon flesh shallowly. A hiss slips past those teeth, monstrous in its depth like a snarl, as his head snaps to follow the other's momentum, his reaction literally knee-jerk as he aims a solid kick to the other's head with his closest back paw, hoping to send him toppling and reeling from the attack. Taking the moment to turn swiftly to face the other, feeling his skin pull taut as the sting surged through his middle, feeling faint warmth as blood beaded along the wounds. He didn't dare to glance at it, knowing that if he looked away for even a breath he likely could miss another move, but the way it felt and the lack of flow meant it wasn't anything to be concerned about. Houndthistle's pupils are pinpricks in his amber eyes, nostrils flaring as he bared his teeth and widened his stance, preparing for the retaliation of the other.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[TIGERFROST]

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Talons rip shallow across flesh, droplets of blood splatter bitter ground, and eyes flash, alight with fire. He is as intense as he is disciplined, a beast of fury and precision, with fangs that snap shut with a click and paws that strike soil once more with practiced grace. Though he spots the back paw racing toward him, jerks forward to get of the way, Tigerfrost cannot completely manage it in time, not so close as the two were. The kick of his opponent is quick and heavy, connecting with his shoulder instead of his head to send him sprawling, but Tigerfrost is akin to a whirlwind, a creature of cunning and speed. He does not stop, does not let the pain of the blow distract him, does not give Houndthistle room to breath.

The tom immediately rolls back to his paws, twists in place, and flings himself right back toward Houndthistle, whom was turning to face him. What Houndthistle would see an instant upon turning was the muscled frame of Tigerfrost barreling directly toward him without a second to waste. Could Houndthistle react in time? The chimera repeats his first attack, lunging toward Houndthistle's shoulder, his back paw twisting as if to propel him down the other tom's side once again. Fool me twice, shame on me. This time, it's not a feint. Tigerfrost does not pivot at the last second. No, he flings out his claws and attempts to lance them through the flesh of Houndthistle's shoulder with two wicked strikes of his quick forepaws. With any luck, his opponent will have suspected another feint, leaving his skin and fur wide open to Tigerfrost's furious strike.

The warrior pointedly avoids striking near the joint, as well as insuring his claws don't slice too deep if they find their mark. After all, he didn't want to hurt his partner too badly. This was not a real, life threatening battle. This was a spar with a clan-mate, and Tigerfrost knows restraint.​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

Fool him twice, shame on him indeed. That's why when Tigerfrost charged at him, swift and lithe on his feet, Houndthistle's muscles flexed, lips pulling back tightly into a wrinkled snarl of ferocity, eyes lighting with determination. He wouldn't be made a fool, if there was one thing Houndthistle hated about fighting sometimes was how much others made it into a game of wits. A game of wits was one Hound would never win, he'd never been one for brains. I got the smarts of a frog and the spirit of a damned stoat, He'd said and he'd believed it wholeheartedly. So when Tigerfrost closed in, the distance so close, instead of dodging or falling into the trap once more, the hulking brute stuck out a paw aimed toward the other's chest, feeling claws dig deep into his chest and rip through fur, as he basically threw himself at the strike to try and do his own attack. If he successfully snagged his arm around the other, he'd allow the momentum of Tigerfrost's movement and his own to carry him and try to latch his large mouth around the other's scruff. He didn't need to land blows, to tear down the other's spirit and flood the camp in blood. He just needed Tigerfrost to get within his reach.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[TIGERFROST]

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His claws meet skin, but not as he intended. A paw reaches toward Tigerfrost's chest, grips fur and flesh alike as the chimera is faced with an incoming mass of muscle, surging right into his attack with one of Houndthistle's own. He can see a flash of the gaping jaws and glinting teeth that descend toward his scruff. The tom grits his teeth, decides to take a risk, waits for the fangs to make their mark before Tigerfrost promptly allows his upper body to fall limp, hanging from his opponent's maw as two fore-limbs surge quickly upwards. Tigerfrost aims to reach up and sink his front claws into the sides of Houndthistle's head, below the ears. He does not intend to rip or tear. No, he aims to hook, to anchor himself, for at the same time, his lower body twists into his desired position, and Tigerfrost kicks up. Hard. The blow is aimed directly toward the front of Houndthistle's throat.

Tigerfrost's back claws are sheathed, because if they were not, such an attack would be devestating. In this case, however, he trusts that powerful blunt force alone would be enough to turn Houndthistle into a choking and sputtering mess. If it succeeds, Tigerfrost will take his opportunity to twist himself out of Houndthistle's grip while the other struggles to regain his breath from what was effectively a throat punch. Or rather, a throat kick. ​

 

[Sedgerunner]

"BUT I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR"​

Actual hard warriors sparring, now that was something Sedgerunner would love to see. Tigerfrost calls a challenge, Houndthistle is his answer and soon an eruption of precision jumps and well-aimed strikes come into play. She places herself beside Sunstride and Wolfsong, their dazzling golden-furred bodies draping into one. For a moment, her heart aches with envy. She wishes she had someone like that, a shoulder to lean on—another half to hers that would make her while. The moor runner sighs, neatly wrapping her shaded tail around nimble paws as she observes, watching their moves closely to help her own short-comings.
Her eyes grew wide at the explosiveness of Tigerfrost and Houndthistle, their strikes and reaction times so quick but so well done. Both were more than formidable opponents, a duo Sedgerunner wishes she could even hold a flame to. Tigerfrost's speed versus Houndthistle's brawn. Claws strike out as the familiar pungent smell of blood lingers in the air, causing her stomach to twist and turn with a similar thrill of fear—and a bit of excitement. Maybe if her mentor wasn't so bitter, wasn't so keen on destroying her self-confidence—maybe she'd have excelled, too. But thay was seasons ago. The lean molly would have to find her own way—would have to overcome her own obstacles, and that's exactly as she planned to do. Determination blossoms in her heart, but her general anxiety fights back fiercely. It's a constant battle, much like what she's observing before her. Hopefully the latter would overcome it all and she could start a new path, finally become her own individual and become a respected warrior of WindClan.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

Fur filled his maw, scruffing the smaller tom like he was a misbehaving kit, adrenaline rushing in his ears so loud he likely wouldn't hear anyone even if they tried speaking to him currently, his entire focus on the spar at hand. His heart pounded, feeling warmth awash his chest and the pulse of the wound like a blossoming rose in his chest, burning and hot and surging through his veins as he faltered a second, feeling Tigerfrost's claws dig into either side of his head, anchored into the thick fur there. At first, he assumed the other was going to attempt to use the momentum of both their motions to try and knock him from his paws, so, as Tigerfrost's body twisted, Houndthistle's front legs framed the other on either side, acting as pillars to stop the motion before it began.

But he hadn't paid enough attention.

As his front paws stiffened in the motion, Tigerfrost's back paws slammed into Houndthistle's neck, and the effect of such a blow was instantaneous. Most the devastating force was cushioned by his mane, but what wasn't caused tears to well into his eyes and he sputtered. Dropping Tigerfrost without much thought, he stepped back instinctually, blinking tears from his eyes as saliva sputtered at his lips and flying as he coughed and hacked, wheezing uncomfortably. He tried to shake off the coughing fit, digging his nails deep into the mud beneath them. He knew that if Tigerfrost's claws weren't sheathed, currently, he could have been devastatingly injured, if not worse. Such an oversight burned into what little pride Houndthistle had, but it was a fair shot, something he respected.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[TIGERFROST]

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It seemed the spectators were silent for now, as the duel goes on with swift finality. His back paws connect, jaws unlatch, and Tigerfrost is free to scramble out of reach as Houndthistle fights for breath. There is no counter-attack, only the gasps and heaves of the other tom as he struggles to regain his composure. Was the fight over, then? His eyes roam across the other, bloodied side, chest, and head, before he begins to assess his own wounds. A bruised shoulder, stained red from the powerful kick of Houndthistle's hind-limb, and the droplets of crimson that slide through the fur of his bitten scruff. It was nothing too notable, although the shoulder would be sore for awhile, he's certain. The chimera gives the limb a roll and a stretch of the joint, testing just how well it moved, before his his fiery eyes return to his former opponent.

"A good fight." He comments with satisfaction, feeling the warmth of his muscle drive the cold from his bones at last. The fading adrenaline would slow his heart and breath in time, but the exercise had certainly worked as intended.​