GET OFF OF MY BACK // training

[OLIVESHADE]

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Oliveshade was not good with children.

This was as well known among the clan as the assured nature of the sun rising each morning. Anyone under twelve moons of age was readily considered a squeaking rat and actively avoided by the molly (this included Dandelionwish, though he'd been relieved of his rat title after assuming his higher position), specifically to help her fly under the radar by trying to avoid problems caused by being near them. It had been a shock to all present when three moons ago, Oliveshade's name was called out along two others to mentor Willowfur's brats, specifically her anxious, rainy cloud in a hurricane, eldest son. She had jerked back from touching his nose as if the foreign coldness had burned her, largely leaving the kit to his own devices and other warriors, even after the (rather inevitable) deaths of his little sisters. She thought if she proved to be a shitty mentor, Sootstar would come to her senses and pawn the shaking rat onto some other poor bastard.

But Sootstar did not like admitting that she made mistakes, Nettlepaw remained her neglected, barely trained shadow for three months.

It was their queen's knave who finally decided to get on her ass about doing something with her apprentice, going so far as coming to watch, peering down at them from atop outlook rock like he was doing something helpful. 'Wish he'd just mind his own damn business.' It wasn't like she could just hope for Nettlepaw to go to someone else now, she'd be lucky if Weaselclaw's report didn't end with Sootstar screaming 'Off with her head!' at the next impromptu clan meeting. The molly shook her head, turning away from their observer and towards her apprentice. "Okay, attack me, claws unsheathed."

He wouldn't be able to make much use of them, she hadn't trained him enough for him to have equal footing.


//okay, once @nettlepaw. and i have posted twice, this thread will become open! we just wanna get in a thing. also obligatory @WEASELCLAW ​

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[nettlepaw.]

..... In coincidental contrast, Nettlepaw wasn't good with adults. Or anyone, really.

..... And yet, he could not deny the excitement that sparked in his chest when Oliveshade approached him for combat training. He had eagerly nodded along, imagining himself to look quite dumb for that in hindsight. Excitement steadily shifted more and more to anxiety as he trailed behind the tunneler, edging on cowardly reluctance when the pair reached the base of the outlook rock. For a moment, Nettlepaw sat down, curling his bushy tail over his paws. The darkened tip flicked this way and that, almost mirroring his mentor's impatient glances at Weaselclaw. He wasn't aware he would have an audience, one that left him feeling like prey being circled by a criticizing vulture. A rat, more accurately. His ears laid flat against his head, recalling how fond Oliveshade was of the demeaning term for anybody young.

..... Abruptly, he was being addressed. Ordered to act. Nettle straightened, before stumbling to stand. A small "Oh," escaped him, the previous clarity to his thoughts rapidly clouding with pressure as he blinked at the older cat. Attack her? How? Was there a specific method she wanted? There wasn't enough time to accurately plan, his claws kneading into the earth for a second or two. A sharp exhale accidentally announced his intent to move moments before he forced himself into action. Nettlepaw crouched down a little, springing forward to swipe at her shoulder. It seemed like the safest spot; he wasn't about to claw her face, even if it was for training.​

 

[OLIVESHADE]

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"You're too loud."

Its an easy dodge, he'd given too much warning, too much of an idea of where he was going to go. She'd need to correct that, but first, his form. "Keep your movements small." She cuffs him on top of his head as he lands. "You'll cause a collapse if you make big movements like that, think like a tunneller not a moor runner." She smacks his legs back under him. "We do not have the mercy of our environment. You will learn to be quicker, to move without sound." Smack after smack after smack as she corrects him into the proper position for close combat in enclosed spaces. Each is accompanied by a criticism, his weakness in targeting just her shoulder instead of her ankles, nose or throat. Oliveshade continues to circle him, seeing if everything is correct and then suddenly she shoulders Nettlepaw to the ground, paw dangerously close to the place where his head meets his neck. Her claws are still sheathed, seemingly wanting to warn him of danger rather than put him in it.

"Dead. You favor your right too much, don't let cats notice that." She seems more unamused than usual. "Get up, do it again." But she doesn't move her paw.

//powerplay permission given​

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[nettlepaw.]

..... He recoiled back from the smack on top of his head; for a moment, he could've sworn he felt his teeth rattle in his skull. Staggering to fix his balance, he shot a wide-eyed glance back at Oliveshade ― only for his legs to be slapped into what he could only assume was a better stance. Nettlepaw bit back a complaint, allowing himself to be battered and molded into form. His tail tucked beneath him, head lowering as he struggled not to flinch with every harsh adjustment. Blue eyes warily tracked his mentor as she circled, though he remained sheepishly frozen. Her rapid-fire criticism rang through his mind, overlapping and echoing all at once. It didn't help that several parts of his body ached now, either. Small movements, be quieter, be quicker ― he still nodded along, head bobbling like it was the only thing he could answer with.

..... The apprentice was easily toppled over onto his back, the wind knocked out of his lungs in a single wheeze. A paw pinned him by the throat before he could right himself again. Nettlepaw stared upward at the older cat, panting through gritted teeth. At first, he writhed a little, shaggy fur undoubtedly covered in dust by now. He stilled when that proved unsuccessful, eyes glazing over in concentration. Without much warning this time, his hindlegs shot outward to kick off Oliveshade, aiming for her underside.​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Weaselclaw isn't deputy, but he enjoys mentoring enough to take a passing interest in how the other apprentices are coming along as future WindClan warriors. WindClan is a structured, rigid environment, where kits are apprenticed early and warriors emerge hardened before their first battle; as a result, it's easy to see where mentors slack.

Oliveshade. She isn't a bad warrior; Weaselclaw does not know her personally, only that she's a reclusive type. He knows, though, that she has only done what little she has for Nettlepaw out of sheer obligation. There's no fire in her eyes when Weaselclaw orders her to call her apprentice for an observation. There's nothing but the glaze of a cat who is being told what to do, and resents it.

Weaselclaw flexes his claws against the surface of Outlook Rock. Each blow against Nettlepaw sets his tail lashing. She does not unsheathe her claws against him, but each knock against him sets his fur on edge.

These were not the battle moves of an apprentice who's been through training for three moons. This is a cat whose stumbled blindly into a beat-down.

He waits for Nettlepaw to attempt to throw Oliveshade off of him. Regardless of outcome, the lead warrior will bound down the length of Outlook Rock until his paws are met with stiff grass and earth. "Enough!" He growls. His voice is sharp. "Nettlepaw, get up."

He swings cold, strange blue eyes to settle on Oliveshade. "What have you been teaching him for three moons? Why does Nettlepaw look like all of this is new to him? He's nearly warrior aged at this point." He lashes his tail. "Nettlepaw, have you battle trained with Oliveshade before? Tell me the truth."

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