insert title here | open, rough-housing

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HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."


Johnny laughed as he was playfully shoved off the other cat, tumbling to the ground and rolling back onto his paws in a smooth movement. He crouched low with a playful wiggle of his haunches, sunny eyes bright and glittering with mischief before he leapt at his clanmate and the two went down in flailing pile of paws, each trying to scruff the other.

"Yer not winnin' this time!" he growled determinedly, muzzle pulled into a toothy smile as Johnnyflame wriggled and shoved and tried to gain the upperhand.

It was all play, of course, just a little good-natured rough housing. It'd been too long since Johnny had let lose like this, most of the physical activity attributed with daily workouts or training exercises. Granted, he did his best to at lest try to make the latter fun, but no matter how enjoyable they were it didn't change the fact that they were purpose-driven, something that came with an expectation.

This? This was just for the hell of it.

OOC- Feel free to be the cat that Johnny is play-wrestling with! Fellow warriors only, though! He wouldn't rough-house to this degree with a kit or apprentice.



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Laughter filled the air from both sides as Howlfire and Johnnyflame enjoyed their playfight. Moments like these were rare for Howlfire nowadays, but she could appreciate the bit of harmless fun it was and how it was helpful to burn off some excess energy. It reminded her of times past with her littermates as they playfought with each other and scrambled over their mother as they played their games.

"Heh, that's what you think," Howlfire smirked, trying to swat away Johnnyflame as the lead warrior tried to break free. He was shorter than her but more nimble too and could duck out of the way of some of her strikes. If she were able, she would try and bump the lead warrior roughly with her shoulder, intending on staggering him, and then trying to wrangle him down to the floor by lightly gripping his scruff. "Come on, lead warrior, show me what you've got!"
 


Odd-eyes watched the pair as they maneuvered around the camp clearing, tussling like two kittens determined to become leader of 'KitClan'. Laid down a short distance away, Silversmoke tried to suppress his grimace at how... uncoordinated the battle moves appeared to be. He knew it was supposed to be a bit of fun, spending more time with Johnnyflame revealed that the chimera was as playful as anything, but old habits didn't break easily. The spotted tabby began paying a little more attention as Howlfire broke out the taunts, a kneejerk 'boo' threatening to spill from his muzzle until he caught himself. A head once resting on broad paws shot up at the challenge the torbie offered his peer, claws unsheathed and working their way into the mud. "Go on, get her Johnny!" He called out, tail lashing with such a fury that it was a wonder that Silversmoke hadn't joined the fray too. Self-discipline was one hell of a deterrent.

 
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Untitled419_20230710182642.png

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."


Johnny hadn't ever really had the chance to mess around like this with littermates or friends when he was younger. He was taken to his twolegs home at around seven weeks old and was only allowed to start roaming his garden when he was about the age of a Skyclan apprentice, and as the only cat in the household he'd really only had his twolegs and his toys to keep him busy. And to be fair, it mostly had. Johnny had a very good upbringing as far as he was concerned, but when he stopped to see the kind of social engagement the its of his clan got at such a young age, it [i[did[/i] leave a small part of him wistfully wishing he'd had the chance to experience something similar. It was very likely why that playful part of him lived on so far into adulthood- unfinished business, or whatever.

Johnny wasn't going to complain though- fun was fun in his eyes, even if he looked a bit silly or seemed a bit childish because of it.

With a twist of his body the tom managed to escape the swat that was aimed at his retreating form, ducing low to the ground and swerving away from her outstretched paw at the last second. She did manage to catch him with her shoulder though, causing him to stumble sideways with a laugh as her teeth caught the side of his neck instead of a proper hold of his scruff.

Johnny quickly braced himself as Howlfire tried to shove him downward, strong legs locking up to try and resist the weight of the larger cat trying to manhandle him. He was so focused on what he was doing that he nearly missed the call from the sidelines- almost. "Got myself a cheerleader, Howl- where's yours?" came his playful jab as he dropped onto his side and rolled, attempting to drag the shecat on top of him so his back legs could launch her off of him, hopefully causing her to lose her grip on the side of his neck in the process.

Plus, he couldn't disappoint his fans.


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The nature of roughhousing—play for the sake of play—was a concept mostly unfamiliar to Slate ( at least in his adult life ). He could recall playing with Cloverjaw as a kit plenty of times in their youth. On the streets, however, rarely did Slate fight for the hell of it. It was always a lesson in survival, a lesson in defense of what was yours. Ever since joining SkyClan, Slate had grown well accustomed to the idea of sparring for practice; he did so with his clanmates quite often in order to keep himself sharp. Rarely did the Maine Coon initiate a playful session of tumbling about with his clanmates. Business was always serious, as if fun did not compute with him. Slate had a habit of taking himself too seriously.

Like Silversmoke, the lead warrior only chooses to look on from the sidelines. It was a spar nonetheless, if not a bit informal, and it was at least something entertaining for Slate to spectate for a moment. The tom rumbles, "My bet's on Howlfire." What? She was his apprentice for a couple of moons. Of course she would come out on top.

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    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!​
 
❪ TAGS ❫.His brother's coment brought a smirk to the silver tom's face. "'Course ya bet on your apprentice." He purred, licking his lips of leftover fresh kill as he approached the spar.
His muscles burned with exhaustion after the hunting patrol. He had attempted to climb and hunt using the trees today, which went well and gifted him a set of particularly nice and juicy squirrels. Which... honestly gave him an idea.
"That's like cheating ya' know. Don't cha' think so Silversmoke?" He smiled, sitting next to his brother and giving his shoulder a playful shove.
"How's about we make this intresting? I got some really nice prey."
He gestured to his still-cooling kills in the pile. He glanced at the fighters, smile softly growing. "If Jonnyflame wins... I'll share it with ya." Never mind the fact that any cat could just walk up and eat the prey, not bet necessary, he could only offer what he had; and he was not about to give up his comfy nest.
As for the cat he bet on? He really didn't know either of them - but it was fun to bet against his brother, so that's what he did. ​
 

Although just for fun, it seemed that their little playful spar was gathering a bit of attention from their clanmates. Silversmoke was cheering on Johnnyflame, urging his fellow lead warrior to defeat her. "Pfft, I don't need one," Howlfire grinned at Johnnyflame's playful jab. Well, at the very least she guessed she had Slate by the looks of it. Which, given that he had mentored her for a brief time was oddly reassuring and strangely touching.

In the moment she looked away, her grip slackened enough that when Johnnyflame rolled, he succeeded in bringing her with him, and was able to shove her off. Howlfire grunted slightly as she staggered back, briefly winded from the kick. She paced towards him, slightly more cautious with her movements, but never losing that playful glint in her eye. Perhaps if she could not pull him down, she could 'stun' him with a few powerful blows? Pretending as if she was pulling away to one side, Howlfire would suddenly shift direction and hope to rain down a flurry of blows upon his head to force him away again.