If Self Loathing was a sport -Spiderpaw-

[Pigeonsong]

Contrary to most of their outings, Pigeonsong actually had high expectations for this particular training session. He knew that she was angry and he also felt that if they could harness that burning anger together, she'd be stronger for it. The tom had heard about what had happened with her when she'd "trained" on her own and now he was determined to put a nail in that right now.
Lifting himself out of his nest, he'd make way for the Apprentice's den, not having to arrive super early anymore. Once they'd had their talk, it seemed as though some of her reluctance had left her, although he supposed that could just be his own hopeful imagination.

"Hey Spiderpaw," He'd start, looking over her form. "I was thinking today we might head to the training hollow for some battle move practice." Sorry I neglected that, he'd think guiltily, realizing that if he'd started training her on battle moves sooner, she may not have hurt herself trying on her own. The pain of losing Bananasplash as a friend had started to wane and he felt enthusiastic, even kneading his paws at the anticipation of having a training session with his apprentice.

"I stashed some good prey for us to have for lunch after too." He'd add cheerfully, giving her a small smile.

@spiderpaw

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

The apprentice is already awake when the familiar cream tabby form steps into the den—to her general dismay, she's still been having trouble sleeping through the night despite her attempts to improve. The more frequent training sessions have started to help with that, though, and speaking of; Pigeonsong offers the opportunity for battle move practice. Spiderpaw's ears twitch with interest despite her sore legs and the smoky cat pulls herself from her nest with a little physical effort and a lot of mental effort. The apprentice pads over to her mentor; it might just be a trick of the high winds, but her gait seems lighter, more enthusiastic somehow, as she moves towards him. As though she's genuinely interested in this.

Spiderpaw's pale glacier eyes turn to the cream form as he continues speaking, empty of any loathing or venom for once—it feels as though their "little talk" of late has made her closer to him somehow, or at least she'd like to think. She'd promised she'd be better and she is trying to be, hard as it feels some days; she's trying to start with the easy stuff, like chatting with one of the Clan's kits or trying to be nice to the apprentice who'd once woken her up with his nightmares. On the other hand, Spiderpaw thinks with a painful clench of her heart, she has as many setbacks as she does these small improvements; she doubts she'll ever kick the gossip habit, she still sounds mean even shen she's trying to be nice, and well—the fight with Chrysalispaw recently was a big failure indeed.

The smoke recognizes the mental rabbit hole she's hurling towards with this line of thought and tries to pull herself away from it, a tired half-smile making its way onto her muzzle. The idea of actually training was one that interested her, might let her focus some of this burning acid slosh of anger she can't quell somewhere besides hurting other cats' feelings or her own paws trying to "train" (if she's honest, that may not have entirely been the intention). Spiderpaw tries to ease her posture and focus on replying to Pigeonsong's words, hoping against hope that today she can do better; trying to keep a harness on her untrained horse of a mouth, she mews, "Mornin', Pigeonsong. Yeah, that sounds good." A small smile battles its way onto her face at this last.
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[Pigeonsong]

Pigeonsong positively beams at her as she makes her way to stand beside him. Their conversation had been one of the hardest experiences of his life, but now as she gives him her best... It just feels so gratifying to be able to help her with her problems, to have him shift in her mind from what was probably an obstacle into an ally.
"I'm so happy to hear that." He purrs as he leads the way to the training hollow, his tail flicking with excitement.


As they reach it, he stands so that they are facing each other just a fox length apart. Admittedly, he doesn't know much about her abilities and he's curious to see what she might've picked up from cats other than himself.
"I want you to go ahead and attack first. I want a feel for how you would fight naturally and we can work on honing that in." He'd mew, hoping that she was as excited as he was.

"If that's alright, of course." Pigeonsong would add, not wanting to make her anxious, he had no preconceptions and was genuinely interested in seeing what she'd come up with on the fly.

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

Pigeonsong's cheerful purr and brightened demeanour as the pair makes their way to the training hollow helps to make the task of dragging herself from the nest feel more worth it; these recent days have given her a taste of what it's like to have a cat actually like her and be made happy by the things she does. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but not a bad one—in fact, it's nice to not be actively making at least one cat upset constantly. Again she's reminded that now she has an ally against herself; she's no longer alone against the beast chained to her mind.

The smoke's reminded with an unhappy pang of her absolute lack of training due to nobody but herself these past few moons; it had all been pointless, anyways—she can barely remember those times now, still has trouble fixing more recent events in her mind's eye. Pigeonsong instructs her to attack first, to see how she "fights naturally"; Spiderpaw's sure that her "naturally" will just be "badly", and for a moment the old temptation to just give up if she wasn't going to do well offers itself. The apprentice shakes her head; she's not doing that anymore. She's not. Besides, she does actually feel excited about this and she—well, she doesn't want to let that heavy misery spoil another good thing for her.

"Yeah, sure. That works," Spiderpaw nods; she doesn't know what she's doing, to be honest—she shakes herself again. She's not ruining her own life anymore. She'll never get better if she avoids everything she's bad at. She tries to repeat these mantras until she believes them, even if it feels hollow. The apprentice darts forward with surprising speed, attempting to appear as though she's going for Pigeonsong's hind legs before half-lunging back and attempting to ram her shoulder into the junction between his torso and foreleg to knock him off balance. The move is not likely to be successful; it's clumsy and without much skill, but the idea of it isn't bad—and there's a certain serpentine artfulness to the way Spiderpaw moves.
​

 

[Pigeonsong]

His tail continues to flick excitedly behind him as she moves before him. He's not going to let her have this by any means but he's pleasantly surprised by her eagerness, a small purr rumbling in his throat. In the past few months, he'd never have dared to dream about what it was like to have an eager apprentice but he feels it now. There is a light emanating from her that he's not sure that she sees but seeing something he's always believed in come to fruition before him; it fills him with a kind of happiness he'd not known previously.

She springs into motion, her long limbs propelling her forward and he braces his hind legs, almost certain of where she's going to strike. At the last moment though, she rams into his chest and he lets out an almost inaudible gasp. A smile crosses his features as he steadies himself and throws a few sheathed blows in the direction of her head, before backpedaling away.

Whether he's successful in his rebuttal or not, his eyes are filled with pride as he addresses her.
"Leaning into the element of surprise was a fantastic idea, not many would expect something that audacious from an apprentice and it pairs well with your build." He'd add the last part somewhat tentatively, still beaming at her.

"That's certainly something we can practice with and with all the dog attacks lately, it's a good fighting style to have." He lets out a small laugh, sitting back on his haunches.

"Dogs always fall for that, they don't react as quickly as we do." He'd elaborate, waving a forepaw in front of him.

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

The apprentice is surprised by the success of her move; she enjoyed fighting but had little belief in her skills for it, understandably given her lack of training (something, she reminds herself, that is entirely her own fault). It's contentment, she realizes, this feeling that warms her often-heavy chest; the explosive joy she's seen in other cats may be eternally out of reach for her, yes, but it lifts her spirits to know she can at least be content. She's surprised by this twist, this realization that waking up feeling terrible doesn't mean she has to feel that way the rest of the day; perhaps it's mostly out of her control, it feels like, but she can fight it instead of succumbing. The misery no longer feels like a trap in which she thrashes, for today at least; rather it's a weight on her leg. Heavy, yes, unable to be removed forever, but those remaining noxious cells can be dragged around without pulling her down with them.

Spiderpaw's a bit lost in thought for the trace of a moment and then abruptly startled out of it by a few sheathed blows battering her head, not as hard as they'd be in actual battle but still knocking her a bit off-kilter. Her small half-smile grows into an unabashed grin for once at her success, Pigeonsong's proud eyes, and his praising words. The smoke mimics him in sitting back onto her haunches, batlike ears twitching attentively as she nods and offers her own hesitant words, "Neat. I figured that'd be what I wanna kinda lean into, since I'm tall but not super, like-" she gestures with her paws in the shape of broader shoulders than her own, drawling, "-big, like I know a lot of cats I might fight are. So I gotta be fast, right?"
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