DISSOLVE [ cherry , green , slate ]

[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
A duo spar. That's what his mentor told him the night before he rested, though the person he'd be going up against wasn't openly announced. It wasn't like it mattered too much- not many of the apprentices were older then Falconpaw, as young as he was. It was just the group of kits that recently became apprentices, right? Falconpaw was thinking about this as he sat in the middle of camp in early morning, where Greeneyes said to wait for him. His ears twitched, glancing around camp- hopefully to see Greeneyes and another mentor ambling up, or another apprentice wander up and declare it was them sparring. He wasn't entirely sure.

// if all four of us have posted, feel free to be the person to move us to the spar spot! otherwise i can write it in
@Cherrypaw @GREENEYES @SLATE

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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[Cherryblossom]

The sun had barely passed the line of trees in the distance, the one demarcating the border between SkyClan and RiverClan, when Slate roused Cherrypaw from the den and into the bright new day. She's not all that upset about it, even if it had been Slate's gruff voice greeting her in her feather-strewn nest. It's sure better than the dawn patrol. She's been getting more used to the lack of luxuries that come with her increased freedom too; she's not thrilled about it, but someone had pointed it out to her in a way that made sense, so she'd accepted it as her own perspective.

Her tail swishes idly behind her as she trots at Slate's flank. It stops when she sees who they're headed towards. Sunlit eyes narrow the slightest upon Falconpaw's bronzed form, who might shift equally uncomfortably on the sight of her as well. As though she were a sudden, bad taste in his mouth, though she'd be quick to bring up his sewer stench if he'd ever expressed his opinion aloud. She likes Greeneyes well enough, but the two apprentices seem to have gotten off on a bad foot that would never fully recover. Her eyes flick back up to Slate. "What are we doing now?"​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Unlike Falconpaw, Cherrypaw had not been informed by her mentor the night before about the next day's agenda. He's finding that he prefers to drop knowledge onto the spunky she-cat on the spot in order to gauge how she reacts. So many things in life came without prior warning and it was good for cats to learn how to handle situations in the moment. Besides, Cherrypaw was already turning out to be a pretty cocky trainee — would her confidence be shaken if she had less time to mentally and physically prepare for a fight?

Upon arrival, Slate acknowledges Greeneyes and his apprentice with a flash of deep amber hues before looking downward at Cherrypaw, "You will be sparring with Falconpaw." That was the boy's name, right? Slate has only really interacted with the young tom a couple of times, and even then he's never had to address him by name. He was named after some sort of bird, he was fairly certain. He could correct him if needed.

He gave a roll of his great shoulders and tilted his head up now, meowing to Greeneyes, "Ready?" There was no time to waste. Orangeblossom was expecting him to make a warrior out of her daughter, and a warrior she would be. Cherrypaw would have no choice but to just deal with him as her mentor.​

 

[GREENEYES]

In all honesty, Greeneyes is sort of dreading the day's lesson-plan. Still on the newer end of his apprenticeship, the thought of sending Falconpaw out into sparring lessons with another apprentice - albeit one even newer into her own days as an apprentice - is a daunting one.

And though he hadn't told the pointed tom who he'll be going up against, Greeneyes figured he'd like some sort of warning about what they'd be doing today. At least, if Greeneyes was still in training, he would've liked to have an idea of what he'd be working on next from Sheepcurl.

His nights tend to be restless these days anyway, but, his nerves for Falconpaw somehow twist his slumber into something more unsettled than usual. It feels like there's a lump in his throat when he emerges from the warrior's den in the early morning, orange and white paws striding over to their pre-planned meeting spot.

Falconpaw is strong, Greeneyes thinks, however, Cherrypaw has Slate as a mentor, and the lead warrior has far more experience in training apprentices to become warriors than he does. He doesn't want to fail Falconpaw in this - doesn't want Falconpaw to fail either.

"Ah," he says at the sight of Slate and Cherrypaw already standing at their meeting spot, at the realization that he'd arrived last. A small smile pulls at his face as he greets them with a nod in acknowledgment. "Everyone's here then?" He moves to stand beside Falconpaw, an ear twitching at Slate's question.

Ready? He doesn't feel like he is.

"I'm ready," he chirps, before looking down at his apprentice. "Are you ready, amigo?" Greeneyes hopes he is - hopes that telling him beforehand has prepared him better for the upcoming fight.
​

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[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
Failure was not an option. Not only would he feel scathing pity and disappointment from himself- he was sure that Vermillionsun would be telling him to get back up and do it again. Do it again, until he didn't fail, and another time or two after that. Falconpaw's ears twitched as Cherrypaw and Slate approached. The sight of one was inspiring, but the other caused a long sigh to leave him. It could've been anyone else, (though he would have really preferred his sisters), but Cherrypaw?

Falconpaw stood up as they arrived- his shoulder bumping against Greeneyes briefly in greeting. He didn't have a whole lot of thoughts besides needing to draw out Cherrypaw's weaknesses first. Defensive, perhaps. His father had taught him some basic things before the left the sewers. After all, he couldn't simply protect his siblings without knowing how first. The apprentice shook out his pelt, then stepped out to circle up with Cherrypaw. "I'm ready." He announced- loud enough all three could hear him without fail. Confidence surged, the nerves biting the coattails of that feeling. He ignored it for now. He would persevere.

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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[Cherryblossom]

Of course. Slate probably didn't tell her because she'd squat down and refuse to budge if she knew she'd be sparring Falconpaw. Nevermind the fact that Slate could lift her by the scruff like a wad of moss and toss her into the Sandy Ravine, and nevermind the fact that she's been ready to give the apprentice a good smack ever since he decided to take offense to her pointing out his stink rather than, you know, fixing it.

It's just that Falconpaw is a moon, an entire moon, older than her, and he certainly looks the part. He's nearly a muzzle-length taller than her, with one moon more of training. She stares at him and not back at Slate, trying to mask the dubious nature of it with her usual air of disdain. Greeneyes is as amicable as ever. If he notices the immediate animosity between the two apprentices, he doesn't show it.

She's not particularly talkative as they walk the well-worn path between camp and the Sandy Ravine. She has nothing to say, or nothing that she should say, to Slate or Falconpaw. Greeneyes is nice, again, but he's not someone she'd consider a good conversationalist solely on the account of being an adult.

They arrive at the training grounds with little fanfare. Cherrypaw nudges her paws a little deeper into the sand. A familiar prickle creeps up her lower spine: her hackles rising subtly, lifting their heads to greet the blustering winds of war. Her gaze deepens into a hard glares when she looks at Falconpaw again. She feels his eyes roving over her as well. It's a distinctly uncomfortable feeling, being looked at with purpose; it makes her feel like she's a dead wren beneath someone's paws, about to have her feathers methodically stripped from her skin before being eaten. It makes her feel naked, and that makes her feel angry. "I'm ready." Her voice sounds as though it'd scraped and banged itself on the walls of her throat a few times before making it out; it's almost a growl.

Without further announcement, Cherrypaw simply lunges at Falconpaw. She's neither strong nor fast, nor particularly coordinated; she doesn't even have a goal in mind for where she wants to land after her leap. Her form practically screams out her every move.

Now nearly a moon into her apprenticeship, they'd been so busy trying to get her bearings─the hunting crouch, remembering the other clans' scents─that they'd hardly had time for real warriorship. The good and pure essence of being a warrior: unadulterated violence. Of course she's asked Slate about it, but the tom just quietly rebuffs her or gives her a few morsels of unappentizing answer. Though wildly unskilled, the girl has at least taken it upon herself to scuffle with Doompaw or Plaguepaw or her friends where she can; if she is anything, it is unfettered enthusiasm. And for good measure, maybe a sprinkle of intuition from all her fierce kithood play.​

 

[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
Battle wasn't something he wished he had to learn. But he did, after all, in this world. His father had done his best to teach him. Now it was Greeneye's turn, of course. To hand down his knowledge, and shape Falconpaw like clay into a warrior. And he would succeed. He would not let the younger apprentice bully her way past him. No, this was his chance to shine. His lips pulled back, ears flattening as Cherrypaw began to rush.

The pure essence of being a warrior- the defense of their clan. Falconpaw and Cherrypaw clearly had wildly different opinions here. He leapt to the side as she lunged forward, dancing away momentarily before he was shooting back towards Cherrypaw, sliding down at her to swipe her legs out from beneath her. Greeneyes hadn't shown him a whole bunch, but his father's training was kicking in as well, his eyes narrowed at her.

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Falconpaw darts to the side, and Cherrypaw's outstretched paws catch naught but air and sand. The tiniest of hisses escape her when he lunges, and she raises a paw to cuff his flattened ears when he slips underneath her. The world tilts, and her paws flail for a moment before the side of her head smacks into sun-warmed sands. She hadn't fallen hard; the namesake of the Sandy Ravine did its job and broke her fall flawlessly, not to mention the fact that she didn't weigh much in the first place.

Though her body remained mostly unscathed, save for the few granules she'd have to shake out of her ear later, her unsecured ego had carreened wildly all over the inside of her ribcage and now lay bruised and smarting at the pit of her stomach. Frustration wells in her limbs like a rubber band pulled taut. As she pulls herself upright, she meets the narrowed gaze trained upon her with equally thin slices of acrid lemon. Without shaking herself off, she simply charges for Falconpaw again, a little faster, a little angrier, yet still without thought.

Too slowly does it dawn upon her that she doesn't really know what to do here. Kit-fighting had never really been about winning, had it? It'd been about keeping the unspoken oath of participation between parties while still trying to knock the other one out of the ring, in the end a strange act of teamwork because neither party truly wanted to kick the other beyond bounds. A game was no fun without both eager sides. Endless dodging got boring after only a few turns of it, which was why Cherry met every attack head on and expected the same of her opponent. The notion of decisively ending a fight escapes her: in the end you either got too tired or were called away by something else. Giving it up herself sounded far worse than just blundering through it though.​

 

[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
Some kind of satisfaction breezes through Falconpaw as his opponent goes down. The smack was soft, at least, as he picked himself up and retreated to allow herself a moment to recuperate. He wasn't heartless, but he was far from stupid. Her eyes have gone from perhaps confident and a bit apprehensive to angry. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, ready for another volley.

Sand lit the air, drifting down as she ran at him. He danced to the side again, ignoring the urge to split a smile on his face. Some part of him was overjoyed at being able to nimbly avoid and dodge her, but another part whispered that she was just another opponent. She wasn't a challenge. He knew that his father may even frown at the lack of improvement, but he was working on it, wasn't he?

He leapt back into the volley as soon as she charged past, aimed to slam into her shoulder with his body to knock her over. If he was successful, and before she could scrabble back to her paws to make another pass at him, he leapt at her and attempted to pin her down while she was prone. His chest was heaving, blue eyes bright with concentration that was fixated on her specifically.

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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