private I TAKE A HAMMER AND I BREAK MY LEGS ༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOPEPAW

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — The life of a warrior is one that he's most familiar with and he knows how fragile a life can be if someone isn't careful of where unsheathed claws land, he doesn't wish for such a thing to befall his own apprentice. If there's ever a time where he's six feet underground after whatever beast killed him then he would never be able to rest peacefully knowing that he never taught Hopepaw a lick of fighting. Berryheart had known how to hold his own when the two of them had made their trip towards Highstones to commune with Starclan and it had been during Sootstar's reign where the moor queen could be quite unpredictable as well as her followers. With the attacks from both Shadowclan and Riverclan, he knew that he needed to focus all of his attention in finishing the training of his apprentice and teach her how to brandish her own claws so that it may save her one day. He thinks of Dawnglare who had died and had been unable to defend himself, he wouldn't wish that sort of fate for Hopepaw or anyone really.

It must be an oddity for Hopepaw to be trailing behind as the both of them head in the direction of the Sandy Hollow and once they step into the area, Gentlestorm takes a moment to glance over it and thinks about how he would've trained his own apprentice here if Howlingstar had ever trusted him with one. Alas, that had never happened when he had returned from the journey given the starblessed offer that had been cast in his direction and how his late mentor had asked if he wished to tread the path of a medicine cat. He had in the past but now as he dwells on it further, he isn't sure what he would've wanted especially with the strain and codes that came along with being a healer. Although, life's never been all that simple and many had to accept that hard fact on the chin.

"What... what did Lovelight teach you?" He says after clearing his throat and walking within the hollow quietly only to turn to face his niece with both of his ears angled forward as he awaits for an answer, he hopes that the warrior that had been given his kin had done well in training her but if not, the tom wouldn't mind filling the gaps or giving teachings that rely a lot more heavily on brute force and strategy. If she needed to kill so that she could live another day then he would show her the most vulnerable areas to take down an enemy and where her teeth or claws must land to deal such a lethal blow. If she were to ever die then it would be fighting for her right to live and that's what anyone would do, he's sure of it. "Show me." After, he finishes circling around like some unnerved beast will he stand in one spot waiting to see what Hopepaw has learned, "Claws sheathed... do not... hold back."

TAKE A SEAT BUT I'D RATHER YOU NOT BE HERE FOR ᨒ WHAT COULD BE MY FINAL FORM

• ooc — @HOPEPAW

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 62 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one...
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

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[HOPEPAW]

⊱⊰ The sandy hollow looms before them, and the sight of it brings a slight frown to the girl's face. Her confusion is borne not only of their silent approach to the training grounds, but also the fact that Gentlestorm has brought her here at all. She had been here only a few times during her time as a warrior apprentice—most of her time had been spent hiding away from Skyclaw and his bloody-fanged supporters. Still, Hopepaw recognizes the area, and she turns to her uncle as soon as she realizes that they aren't simply passing by it, but approaching it directly. Her expectant look follows after him just as her pale paws do, until at last Gentlestorm enters the hollow and turns to face her. He asks her what Lovelight had taught her, and for a moment embarrassment grips the apprentice. If she had been more willing to work with her mentor, more bold in traveling outside of the medicine den while Skyclaw's cronies had roamed the camp, then maybe she wouldn't be fumbling for a response.

Not very much, she doesn't say, but it is clear in the way her copper eyes dart to the trees above, then back to the sand below. "Lovelight taught me to hunt, mostly. I… I didn't learn very much about fighting." She knows the basics of defending herself, of remaining strong and steady, but her long legs don't lend themselves well to a sturdy stance in battle. Hopepaw's ears tilt backward as she faces the older medicine cat, feeling prickly and hunted as the tom circles around her. Like some kind of great beast, his scars make Gentlestorm truly seem like a predator. He tells her to show him, to demonstrate what she knows—and Hopepaw stills. She will keep her claws sheathed, thankfully, but the idea of even pretending to harm someone she cares for is… hard to push past. Bit if she doesn't do this now, how will she have the skills to fight a potential enemy in the future?

Since Skyclaw—since she watched her uncle fall under merciless claws, bleeding his life out all over the floor of the den that he'd used to save so many—Hopepaw has been gripped with the visceral fear of losing. She could have lost her uncle, her brother, her mother, her friend… all to that dark, dappled villain who declared himself a leader. If she had only been stronger, braver, then maybe Gentlestorm wouldn't have gotten so injured. Maybe he wouldn't bristle at every unexpected movement. "Okay," she murmurs, and hesitantly throws herself forward, aiming to smack a paw against the larger tom's head. If it connects, it won't injure him, but with more force out behind it, it could certainly be enough to rip at an enemy's eyes, nose, or ears—the delicate, soft parts that even an untrained medicine cat apprentice knows to aim for.

an ancient spirit’s song 【❖】 will heal our wounds

• ooc: —
• 
• 
  HOPEPAW ❯❯ she/her, thunderclan medicine cat apprentice
  
  ⊱ skinny, thick-furred lilac molly with deep copper eyes. soft-spoken and a bit of a grouch.
  ⊱ daughter of batwing and leopardtongue ; adopted by roeflame
  ⊱ mentored by gentlestorm
  ⊱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ; does not typically like physical contact from anyone besides her family
  ⊱ penned by foxlore

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