HOLLYWOOD HORROR — o, sparring

[SLATESNARL]

Upon being assigned to assess the combat skills of one of SkyClan's newest additions, Slate couldn't say he was entirely thrilled, especially since the said cat was a kittypet. He had not made any pointed remarks toward the chocolate tom, lest he wished to land himself on Orangestar's radar again, but he certainly had little patience for dawdling at the moment. The lead warrior had quickly asked Whiskey to follow him out to the training hollow and had ducked out of camp without another word, hefty paws carrying him as swiftly as he could. Let's just get this over with. Slate thought to himself. It wouldn't be difficult, he supposed.

The mangled tom led the brown-pelted feline to the sparring area, noting the presence of other cats watching them though paying them little mind. "Remember, this is just an assessment to see how well you can hold your own. No claws. Fight's over when you get pinned." It had not occurred to Slate that Whiskey could potentially be the one pinning him. The other tom was decently sized and certainly looked as if he had the potential to learn, but... he was a kittypet. He wouldn't know how to fight right off the bat, Slate was certain of it.

Slate decided to try a different approach today. Rounding around his opponent slowly at first, he'd strike out a limb and attempt to smack Whiskey across the jaw. Whether his initial hit handed or not, the Maine Coon would then rear onto his hind legs and aim to come crashing down onto the other male.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

• @Whiskey

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Whiskey]

He hadn't expected one of the first things he was to do upon joining the clan was to be assessed, to judge how good he was at the various things that would be part of clan life. It should have been expected -after all, how was he supposed to learn things that he didn't already know if they didn't know what he knew already - but he had thought it would be more like being asked what he could do instead of showing. It didn't really bother him though, and silently he moved through the forest towards the training hollow behind Slate, ears pricked as he listened to the sounds around them before they stopped and the charcoal-colored tom was speaking.

"No claws, got it." Whiskey found himself repeating, ignoring the part about him being pinned. He wasn't usually one to allow himself to be pinned down, so he was sure this could be a long spar. Getting into the best position he could muster for defense - he hadn't been trained so it looked odd but worked for him - the brown feline would watch as he was circled, before Slate's paw reached out and went to smack him and Whiskey found himself leaning back a moment too late as paw collide with face. It was embarrassing but he was learning, he'd never sparred with a cat before, but it was in that moment of trying to learn that he watched as Slate began to lift up on his hind legs and as the lead warrior moved to slam down Whiskey found himself rolling out of the way before hopping back onto his paws and moving forward to try to shove the other to get him off balance, and if successful he would reach out with a paw to smack Slate's side and try to push him down completely.

WELCOME TO THE PLANET ┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ WELCOME TO EXISTENCE

• --
• 
• ✘ SH chocolate/chocolate chimera w/low white & yellow eyes
  ✘ 42 moons old; ages the 15th every month
  ✘ bisexual biromantic ; not currently in a relationship, not looking
  ✘ currently mentoring none
  ✘ in same clan easy to interact with, outside of clan is more gruff
  ✘ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✘ excels in combat, hard in battles
  ✘ peaceful powerplay and healing allowed

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[FIGFEATHER]

Curiously, Figfeather sneaks close to the two sparring tom-cats. Taking a front row seat she watches Whiskey intensely to see how he handles Slate, a strong SkyClan warrior, one-on-one. For most kittypets, she too would expect them to lose miserably in a fight like this, but she is pleasantly surprised when the chocolate tom is not immediately thrown to the ground. That and he makes a good effort to fight back.

Highly entertained she jumps up onto her paws and yowls, ”Yeah! Get him!” Playfully she cheers, not positive herself which of the felines she was rooting for.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Lead Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
  » Mentoring Daisypaw
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[DOGBITE]

✦ Dogbite lingered near the training hollow, his attention drawn to the sparring session between Slate and the newcomer, Whiskey. He had been half-distracted by his own thoughts but found himself intrigued by the sight of the burly black tom assessing the skills of the chocolate and white male. It was an unusual sight for Slate to be this engaged with a kittypet, especially one with no formal training. Albeit, a welcome distraction from Dogbite's more desolate thoughts, and moping mannerisms.

His initial skepticism was quickly overshadowed by a flicker of admiration for Whiskey's courage. Most kittypets would shrink away from a warrior as imposing as Slate, but Whiskey held his ground. Willing to take up the mantle of being trained. Dogbite's tattered ears twitched with interest as he watched the two cats face off.

Slate moved with confidence, circling Whiskey and striking out with a powerful paw. The lead warrior's movements were fluid, almost effortless, a stark contrast to Whiskey's more awkward defensive stance. He watched as Slate's paw connected with the chimera's jaw, a solid hit. Whiskey appeared to recover quickly, dodging Slate's next attack and attempting to shove the larger cat off balance.

It seemed the hollow was beginning to buzz with excitement, and Dogbite felt a sense of camaraderie. Figfeather's enthusiastic cheers added to the growing energy of the moment. Dogbite's own anxieties momentarily faded as he focused on the match. Nestled on his haunches a few steps back than the yellow molly. Their good eye lingered on the intense yellow of the other's.

"Impressive." He murmured to no one in particular, noting the compelling potential. As the spar continued, Dogbite found himself rooting for Whiskey, silently urging the newcomer to keep holding his own. The cinnamon-flecked tabby knew the importance of resilience and adaptability in a new place. Given their background as a loner he had joined when far more accustomed to strife.

For now, they would watch and see how the encounter played out, a mixture of curiosity and cautious optimism stirring within them.

✦ OOC ✦ INFO ✦

• 

• 

  
  ✧ LH cinnamon tabby high white blue eye
  ✧ npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
  ✧ skyclan lead warrior ; ex-loner
  ✧ 34 moons old ; birthday 07/01
  ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
  ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
  ✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric​

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[SILVERSMOKE]

The spotted tom reclined on his haunches as a spar in the ravine was underway, the bristle to his fur disappearing the moment the spar began. He longed to be the one circling his opponent and the one to sock another in the jaw as practice, but slow to offer to fight that day, Silversmoke was delegated to the sidelines. A fire still lingered in his eyes and adrenaline still pumped through his veins, his body jolting with each gesture as if prepared to act at a moment's notice. Murmurs of support rang out through the crowd and, despite the clear excitement, Silversmoke's parted maw remained silent, a vote for neither side able to push past the ash that burned his throat. Fate had dealt the Lead Warrior a cruel hand - should he root for the cat that almost took his eye, or a cat whom was so new it would be bad look on SkyClan should he best a competent fighter?
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[SLATESNARL]

Surprise prompts Slate to huff after he lands on his paws. They are empty, having completely missed his target, and he cannot help but feel dumbfounded. So, this loner had some sense of what he was doing. The lead warrior could not say he had been expecting Whiskey to dodge his incoming attack.

The charcoal-pelted brute grunted as he was shoved off balance before he could think to try attacking again. Getting Slate to tip was not a difficult thing to manage; it was something akin to balancing a heavy boulder on a cliff's edge and giving it a nudge. The Maine Coon came tumbling down, weight thudding against the ground and causing the inner chambers of his skull to ring for a moment. He winces slightly, vision quickly refocusing as glimpses of his clanmates enter his peripheral. Three of his fellow lead warriors spectate, watching his every move, judging him as he gets swept by a newcomer. Their gazes practically burn him, and an uncomfortable twinge strikes his heart.

A low growl emits from his throat, arguably due to the effort of rising to his paws, and a burst of energy accelerates Slate toward Whiskey again. This time, the Maine Coon aimed to snatch the other tom by the scruff and shove him onto the ground by force.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

• feel free to powerplay/maneuver however you prefer in order for whiskey to land a pin ^^

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

  ​

​