pafp IT'S GO, BOYS, GO & QUESTION

The raid drew ever closer, and the knowledge of what would come leaves Sparkpaw feeling twitchy. He had always known that battles would be dangerous, but to know it and to live it are two different things. A cowardly part of him whispers that he is not ready. Would he die tonight? His mentor has taken eyes, and nauseously he contemplates such an injury himself. He was still not quite grown, though just a few days ago he had been proud of the changes he'd gone through. Strength coiled around his legs and in his shoulders. He could land the simpler battle moves most every time he tried. He was taller, squarer. But still...small. Maybe it's just what's inside of him that feels so tiny. Like nervousness has eaten away everything else, until all that remains is this brittle skeleton of his pride.

So in this as in all things, he turns towards the one cat he has grown to rely on wholly: Weaselclaw. It is strange to say as much. But in the moons since he was first apprenticed, Sparkpaw has spent each and every day alongside the tabby tom, whenever his duties as a father and lead warrior did not pull him away. It was his stride that the apprentice would always try to match. "Weaselclaw?" How he can seem so calm right now is beyond him, resting in WindClan's camp as if they are not about to throw themselves to battle. The dark-pelted youth settles to sit, but even still his tail flicks behind him. A nervous, rattling twitch. "How do you stop yourself from being nervous? When you're going into a fight. A real fight."
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  • ooc: pls wait for @WEASELCLAW ! set before the raid
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  • sparkpaw, sparky. dmab male, he - him - his.
    ──── apprentice of windclan. loyal to windclan and his family.
    ──── 04 moons old. born on 12.15.22, and ages in real time.
    ──── echolight x elmbreeze, adopted by yewberry. brightfam.
  • "speech"
 
Weaselclaw studies Sparkpaw; the dark-pelted apprentice's approach does not startle him, but the question causes him to meet the other's bluer, brighter gaze. "How do you stop yourself from being nervous? When you're going into a fight. A real fight." His tail begins to twitch, as does the ear with it's notch in it.

"I'm not nervous because I know I will win, no matter who I face," he says, and despite the arrogance of his words, his tone is surprisingly mild. Weaselclaw believes everything he tells Sparkpaw. "No matter if I have to retreat, or take wounds, I know I am fighting for WindClan, and I know StarClan is smiling down on me for my bravery."

Weaselclaw's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "It's normal to be nervous. It's your first battle," he says. Despite the concession, his tone remains gruff. "With every fight you win, though, you will lose your fear." He manages a smile at his protege. "You'll be begging for the chance to prove yourself."

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
What a question, indeed. One he himself had never taken the time to stop and ask. He did as he had to. Figured it out on his lonesome. Sparkpaw was smart to ask what he did.

The arrogance of his mentor's answer could not be missed, though he supposes it was not unwarranted. On the outskirts of it all, a winner is whoever makes it out alive. Weaselclaw was very much so – alive and well; father to five, willing and able to protect them any whoever else he pleases. Of course, things were more complicated, now. Winning was more than walking away with your life. Push and pull. To send a message. He wasn't used to it all, quite yet.

Arrogance can be dangerous, in the right situation. Can help you too, depending. Heath himself, has never been one to hold such a belief. Such courage can do wonders for the right person, though. The gradual loss of fear was always something. Heathclaw gives a single agreeing nod. "Too much stewin' leaves you nervous," he adds. To be sound in what you did was the true solution, but you never could be for sure, in this life. "The nerves will wash away once you're in it."


  • HEATHCLAW: he / him; cisgender male, 42 moons. moor - runner of windclan.
    — bisexual with no clear preference. single.
    — low, rumbling voice with a noticeable, but not overbearing southern drawl.
    — goes with the tides. if loyalty is what will benefit him, so be it. independent but amicable.

    — for windclan – a tall and broad chocolate tabby tom with half a tail. Smattered with smaller scars, the most obvious being a sharp cut across his lower jaw and eye, that of which is half-blind. Sharp-jawed with an intense hazeled stare; lost most of his tail due to an incident when he was younger.
 
It's a good thing there are cats like Weaselclaw around to reassure apprentices with their massive, uh...self-esteem. Scarabwing wouldn't know what to say if Sparkpaw asked him that— he's gotten by this far purely by being difficult to pin down. Why learn how to fight if he can just outrun them? It's worked out fine for him thus far, and Buzzard —Foxbite— covered for him pretty well in Gin's group. But now he's expected to go against RiverClan on their home turf. He's just as terrified as Sparkpaw, if not more, seeing as he actually knows what life has to offer and he'd rather it keep on offering.

"That's right!" He enthuses, slapping Heathclaw's leg good-naturedly. His paw leaves a smear of mud in its wake, which he tries to surreptitiously rub off of the taller cat and succeeding only in making it worse. Scarabwing clears his throat and decides to pretend he didn't notice. "Just don't think about it! And one day, you'll not think about it enough until not thinking about it is why you're good at it."
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  • SCARABWING: scarab for the glossy sheen of his pelt; wing for his flight-like speed. 37 moons, tunneler. He/him/his.

    a rather small feline whose size is either laughable or endearing, depending on whether he's trying to fight you or fit himself into a ridiculously tiny spot. he's quite heavily scarred, missing noticeable strips of fur to heal in jagged swathes. his eyes are a dark, metallic amber. he's an incredibly adept hunter but lacks the training to be a fearsome fighter.

    despite his gruff and rough appearance, scarab is surprisingly friendly (especially for a former rogue). he's goofy and often falls into stupid antics for the sake of earning a laugh, but he's not to be taken for a soft-hearted fool. he has survived this long by doing what needs doing, however cruel, and he's stayed in windclan out of respect for sootstar's abilities. (he's also slightly superstitious and her return to life both fascinates and terrifies him.)

 
Badgermoon had not often considered what it must feel like for apprentices entering their first battle. The black-and-white tom trotted thoughtfully toward the gaggle of tomcats, his snow-kissed ears perking in interest. He was curious to hear what his warriors had to say, though he had complete faith in all of them. He leaned back onto his haunches and nodded in agreement with the pieces of advice tossed out, though his brows did quirk a bit at Scarabwing's avoidance-based strategy. "And remember, you will not be alone. Your Clan will be fighting with you." his own nerves, flourishing now mostly out of fear of failing his Clan and his leader, were always eased somewhat when he remembered that he would fight alongside his Clanmates. The deputy attempted to bump his shoulder encouragingly against Sparkpaw's, a small smile lighting his bicolor features.
 
Firefang always got jittery before heading off to battle, she could never quite understand if it was out of nervousness or excitement. It's a feeling she will never get used to, it feels wrong she knows this is a serious predicament that nothing about what they were about to do was fun. They were avenging a clanmate yet her heart still skips beats in elatedness, she can still feel that itch in her paws and electricity in her veins. She doesn't fear the coming onslaught, she has no doubts it's the right thing to do all she hopes for is that this battle is in their favor and they'll make Riverclan pay for the actions of Hyacinthbreath - she hoped she'd be killed if not by her claws then by another of her clanmates. Spiderbloom deserved to rest easy knowing her 'mates' killer was buried deep in the earth.

Her feelings are shared by many when it comes to her - but she knows many feel far more anxiety about the coming battle than she does. Her ears perk as she catches the words of Sparkpaw and Weaselclaw, she hasn't meant to overhear she'd just been close by. Her head turns to them, listening to the brown toms words; he's powerful and proud there is no resistance no fear marring his tone of voice. He's admirable, a true warrior of windclan and someone she wants to be like. The advice he gives is true, it's important for Sparkpaw to hear; the first fight was the most daunting they got easier after that. This would be her second; and it wouldn't be her last there would be many more to follow.

More clanmates come to offer their encouragement to the level voice of Heathclaw, the far more playful mraow of Scarabwing and then the gentle encouragement of her former mentor. She didn't quite know anymore how she felt about Badgermoon, he certainly was the best of her mentors competent and confident in both his abilities and her own. Sure he was too goofy at times but he had grown on her, she respected him far more than she had moons prior. He knew when to be serious, knew how to take the reins when Sootstar couldn't and was shaping up to be a cat worth following. He was still dopey-ole Badgermoon to her though deep down, she wonders if he prefers being seen that way or as the strong calculated deputy.

Her paws lead her over to them, she offers a respectful dip of her head to Weaselclaw and then to Badgermoon. Finally she flashes a grin of sharp teeth at Sparkpaw before her own encouragement is spoken ❝You'll be fine, if ya get into trouble there's plenty of clanmates who'll jump in and save you❞ she tells him ❝Not that you have to worry those fish-faces are easy opponents, hares are far more scarier then them❞ she hadn't actually fought any riverclanners before, she's wanted to stay and fight when they came rushing into the fray during the herb raid but they'd retreated before she had the chance.

Weak clans stuck together she figured.

❝I got an idea though, wanna warm up? Get that blood pumpin with a quick spar?❞ she would offer, sure she was no longer an apprentice but they were still close in age and it'd help her too.​
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