pafp COMBAT BABY ↺ [ brawl ]

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Moorpaw thanks the stars for being born where she'd been born.

WindClan, and WindClan alone, understands the true essence of clanhood. They are StarClan's chosen, sanctioned by the heavens above with full bellies, safe lands, and accomplished warriors—and to her knowledge, none of the other clans have all three. Each and every time she caught part of a conversation about the outside groups, the discussion has carried a negative, borderline hostile connotation towards them. ShadowClan starves, this everyone knows. RiverClan is flooded, stupid fishfaces. ThunderClan is on fire, as they deserved. SkyClan is chock-full of kittypets, a lamentable reality which needs no further comment. On the other paw, whenever her own clan is spoken of it's in a tone of pride, reverence, and respect. The only sensible explanation for this is they are better than everyone else, and that's the bottom line. Nothing else to say about it. They're just the best clan, simple as.

To a fledgling and impressionable mind such as Moorpaw's, the clan's overarching, nigh-on-overwhelming patriotism has instilled an uneasy sort of pressure in her system. That she is not only one of StarClan's chosen, but the daughter of the blessed clan's leader, it means a daunting set of expectations lie in the path ahead. She'll try, the stars know she'll put forth her best effort to reach the standards set for her. Yet, her psyche is eroded with uncertainty, and in a gradual process it continues to weaken. What if, despite everything, she isn't capable?

She cannot let that happen under any circumstance. She will become capable. It must be so.

"Bluh... Bluepaw!" pants the inkspill apprentice, who lumbers across the breadth of camp in a cold sweat. All morning long had she been on the prowl for a littermate, someone she could whomp without facing a harsher punishment. Unbeknownst to her sister, the dark-toned furs along her neck are now Moorpaw's objective. "I'm guhn' fight you show I'm worthy!" she cries, dragging herself ever-closer. "Pruh-pare to taste the pain!"

And then, she halts. Huffing, puffing, panting, and heaving, Moorpaw stops in her tracks a hare's-length from the other apprentice. "I want to kick your butt, so let's spar!" There, that's the way to do it. Employing tooth and fang without giving her a chance to defend herself would just be plain assault, now wouldn't it?

// @BLUEPAW
​

 

[BLUEFROST]

The day had been relatively peaceful so far; Bluepaw has eaten, washed herself, and is only resting briefly before going out with Sootstar for the day. She relishes the moments of rest; even as a fledgling apprentice, she's found her life to become a grueling effort in a short amount of time. Her paw pads are forever sore and scratched by the sharp grass of the moorland, and every muscle aches from traversing the vast golden hills rolling through their home.

She looks up with mild annoyance at the too-bright voice of her sister. Moorpaw breaks across camp to skid in front of her, dark fur on end, green eyes wide with electricity. "I want to kick your butt, so let's spar!" Bluepaw's frown is immediate. "I don't want to," she answers, trying to turn her face away so that Moorpaw is looking only at the disinterested profile.

But then she quickly reconsiders. If she refuses to engage, Moorpaw will only surprise-attack her, and that would be more trouble than she believes it's worth. The blue she-cat sighs with frustration before rising to her paws. But after that, she only looks at her sister with uncertainty. She doesn't know how to spar. She'd rarely, if ever, participated in her littermates' kitten games; Bluepaw is woefully ill-prepared.

She's Sootstar's apprentice, though; she's daughter to Weaselclaw, a brilliant warrior who had fought in many battles. Surely, surely, she can take on Moorpaw? Can defeat her, even?

Bluepaw crouches, her fluffy white-capped tail pluming behind her. After a few stuttering heartbeats, she clumsily rushes at her sister, forepaws outstretched in an attempt to bowl her over.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon would've agreed with Moorpaw, quite frankly: WindClan was StarClan's chosen, surely. Their troubles were small in comparison to the other Clans', and with the coming of newleaf his steps were lighter than they had been in moons. Or, well...they would've been, were it not for the whole...thing...with Curlewnose. But that was something he was stridently trying to avoid addressing, both publicly and in the quiet of his own head. The point was: things were regrowing, the prey was once again becoming abundant, the air was fresh and smelled of heather...he could hardly think of a better start to the season.

There was a sudden, dark-colored blur in his peripheral vision and the bicolor tom turned in surprise, just in time to spot Moorpaw staggering across camp to challenge her sister. Amusement sparked in his yellow eyes - they were going to spar, eh? He liked watching his Clanmates spar, and there was always something a little comical about watching the apprentices engage in training combat together. "I think you can take her." he called out, purposely leaving the subject and object of his sentence unspecified. He had no idea who had the upper hand in this fight, nor if either young cat had even gotten to the battle training part of their career yet. This would be a good first indicator, he suspected.​

 

[SHADOWRUNNER]

\╱╲I SEE A RED DOOR & I WANT IT PAINTED BLACK╱╲/​

Oh? A fight between the sisters? Goodness! Shadowpaw decided to clear out from the immediate area as to avoid being accidentally caught up in the scuffle between Moorpaw and Bluepaw, so he made his way over to Badgermoon to sit with the deputy. At least then if things got overly excitable he could utilise the older tom as a shield. Once settled he shifted his gaze towards the pair so he could watch them brawl it out, now ever curious as to who would come out as the winner. "Heh! Never a dull moment in camp. Go on Moorpaw! Take her down!"

NO COLOURS ANYMORE I WANT THEM TO TURN BLACK
╲╱╲╱╲╱​

​

 

[whitedawn]

Sparring was an almost common occurrence in Windclan, though one that Whitepaw herself seldom joined. She, similarly to Bluepaw, didn't often spar with her denmates. Of course, that wasn't counting the brief event of Moorpaw, or rather Moorkit at the time, attacking her when she was unprepared. It was a day that Whitepaw wasn't fond of, even if she did like Moorpaw to an extent. Remaining a fair distance away to the beginning spar, the alabaster femme watched with sleepy pink hues as she groomed a paw, remaining ever silent as a whisper as she usually did.​

[I'M BREATHING]​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerpaw keeps to the sidelines, watching the fight break out between the two siblings with a curious intensity. It's been quite a while since the older apprentice has sparred. They were eager to, only a moon ago, but now they simply observe with hesitance and a careful eye. They'll start their battle training again soon -- is it too soon? Could they join now, in this scuffle? They probably could. Maybe their gap in training, their newly-acquired limp, would even the playing field between them and the younger apprentices. More likely, it'd put them at a disadvantage. Their mouth twitches downward at the thought.

Regardless, they don't want to interrupt. Sunflowerpaw sticks close to Whitepaw, the two watching the fight play out in silence.​

 

[SPARROWBREEZE]

All of this fighting. Sparrowpaw doesn't understand, really, why WindClanners seem to like it so much. It seems to be a common pass-time around here, a way to show off one's skills from training. But, why? Why risk hurting yourself like that, if the day's training was over, and no battles were to be had?

Sparrowpaw doesn't get it, but maybe someday she will. She isn't certain if today is that day, however, as Moorpaw challenges Bluepaw, as blue fur ultimately rushes towards black. Still, the brown tabby settles among the growing audience with curious eyes, trying to figure out which of her fellow apprentices she must root for.
​

 

[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

A challenge was issued and after brief hesitation a response was given. Adderpaw slowly makes his way over, eyes evaluating the stance of his siblings as they tussle with one another. A low snort flutters from his nostrils, serpentine tail lashing as he settles into a seated position to watch the duo duke it out with one another. While Moorpaw held the brawn to pull their sister into submission, there was no questioning Bluepaw's brain. Should their ebony sister fail to keep her wits about her, Bluepaw could also win this fight just as easily. Fighting aside, he mulled over the reasoning. If Moorpaw wished to test her strength shouldn't it have been against himself or Harrierpaw? What was there to gain against a future tunneler? Their profession hardly included combat. The boy's eyes narrow thoughtfully, stance shifting to something akin to an imposing gargoyle the longer he watches. ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

​

​

​

​

 

[Bluepool]

"SPEECH"
Watching kits fight was always amusing to Bluepool, even more so when said kits were her own nieces and nephews. They always seemed to spar more fiercely than the other apprentices. Who could blame them though? Just look at who their parents were. Blue paws lead the silver tabby over to the scene where she immediately takes a seat, pale yellow eyes fixing on their small forms as they throw themselves at one another.

"I think you can take her" Bluepool's whiskers twitch in amusement at Badgermoons obvious attempt at encouraging through neutrality, it is not lost on her that he does not specify which her he is speaking about. Shadowpaw is less subtle, he calls out in obvious favor of her black and white furred niece. Whitepaw, Sunflowerpaw Sparrowpaw and Adderpaw seem content to only observe quietly. Bluepool cannot help but wonder how she has found herself surrounded by children like this. Her ears twitch and she moves closer to Badgermoon ever so slightly, the only other adult here currently. She is content to just watch right now, but who knew perhaps she would cheer for whoever appeared to be winning later.

​

 

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Moorpaw's fighting spirit remains steadfast in spite of the initial refusal. The mettle within her, ever-smouldering and ready to be unleashed, will not be quashed by a simple rejection. It's accurate for her littermate to presume the impending whoop-ass cannot be avoided—it is inevitable, like a prophecy foretold by the stars, and by their grace Moorpaw will prove to them just how worthy she is.

Nascent ivories are revealed in a sneer when her sister averts her gaze, only to amplify into a full-fledged smile as Bluepaw straightens up on all fours. Is she revisiting the offer? Their eyes then latch on to one another, matching in colour but unalike in their resolve. She doesn't consider herself to be a talented face-reader, but the gleam of doubt in the other's regard is hard to overlook. "Are you a scaredy-cat?" mocks the girl through a squinted glance. "Bee-cawse I would be a-scared of me, too!"

Outlines of clanmates, some of them older, emerge in her peripheral and causes the sooty apprentice to break eye contact with her adversary. Among them stood the deputy, as well as Adderpaw, both of whom were certainly worth impressing. Also present is Whitepaw, who'll have to watch on with horrible memories as Moorpaw beats her peer into a bloody pulp. With an enraptured flick of the tail, she reverts her attention unto her foe, who's already embarked on a mad dash towards her.

The ensuing collision would overturn the girl onto her side. With an audible "Oof!", her midsection crashes into the grains below. The wind doesn't reenter her lungs straightaway, nor does her alertness return to her mind, which prompts her to cover her profile in a meek display of defence. Composure is regained after a matter of moments, and be it through stubbornness or tenacity, Moorpaw refuses to remain in a submissive position.

"Ouchie... good hit, Bluepaw!" she musters upon returning to a fighting stance. The girl would huff and puff until the pain wanes away. "Too bad you're not ready for my Claws of Carnage!" At their summons, the nails jut out from her white-capped paws, only for her to leap toward her sister and attempt to tackle her in a similar manner.​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluepaw crashes into Moorpaw in a tangle of ungainly kitten limbs. She's almost as dazed as her sister is at the force of the blow, and she's heavily distracted by the Clanmates who have gathered to spectate. Badgermoon calls for one of them -- but who? Bluepaw looks up from her littermate's dark pelt, eyeing the crowd warily. Were they here to cheer her sister on, to see her lose?

Her distraction gives Moorpaw the opportunity to slip away from her, unpinned and preparing to attack. She springs at Bluepaw with her claws unsheathed, and the longhaired she-cat can feel them snag in her fur. The tiny points prick into the flesh of her chest and shoulders, and she hisses, spittle flying into Moorpaw's face. "You're using claws?"

She brings her head around to snap at Moorpaw's foreleg, hoping to clamp her jaws around the offending limb. If successful, she will shake her head like a dog worrying a bone. The disinterested glaze of her green eyes has been replaced by anger and hurt, and her thick fur is fluffed up and billowing in the wind.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Pitiful spars were not amiss in their kittenhood - and given their litters overall brutish behavior, it's unsurprising that the habit has yet to be shaken properly. For better or for worse, she supposes. Weaselclaw and Sootstar would be proud to see any of their children unleashing their moon of learning on one another, or even the other apprentices. Shows of strength, cunningness, ability and more - shows that they are worthy of their star-blessed heritage and home.

Cottonpaw watches from afar at first, eyes fluttering from sister to sister. Bluepaw never really took to the rough-and-tumble lifestyle of their moor-running siblings, so it's genuinely a surprise that when given the choice, her near lookalike decides to bid into Moorpaw's antics. She strides forward, ear flicking when she notices how the apprentices have placed themselves thus far. Sunflowerpaw, Whitepaw, Sparrowpaw - more passive, she finds, though she's unsure initially if it's their choice to be that way or not. And then Adderpaw, parted from them, watching his sisters with eyes narrowed.

Though she'd love to settle within the group of her friends, she instinctively pulls closer to her brother. There's an indistinct glint in her gaze - scrutiny, perhaps, as she watches Bluepaw and Moorpaw flail about. Someone says something about claws and again she's unsurprised. Her tail twitches as she murmurs to her brother, "Be careful; you'd be next on her chopping block." It's a jest, Cottonpaw thinks, though given Moorpaw's line of thinking she wouldn't be surprised if the black furred apprentice pulled their stoic brother out of the crowd just to brawl with him next.​

 

[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

He busies himself with studying both sisters overall. Moorpaw and Bluepaw were easily distracted, both having a moment where they diverted their attention away from their initial target. A mistake that allowed them both to become tackled once respectively. His serpentine tail lashes once, chin lifting as he overhears Bluepaw hiss over the use of claws. Being a tunneler he couldn't imagine they used their claws for anything besides trekking dark caverns and pinning rabbits. Moor runners used their claws for practically everything. Traction when racing the hills, to aid in snagging rabbits, and of course during battle. He could understand Bkuepaw's shock when her flesh was met with pinpricks.

A low huff of brimming amusement flutters from his nose the moment fangs seek to clamp around Moorpaw's leg. Despite not being much of a fighter she seemed to be getting her pound of flesh just fine. Everything was fair game in a fight. His attention deviates from wrestling littermates to the soft greys of Cottonpaw's pelt. "There's a reason no one challenges me to a spar, Cottonpaw." Adderpaw rumbles, directing his attention back to the brawl taking place before them. ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

​

​

​

​