private LAST OF US &. sparring / private for now

SPLINTERPAW.

SPLINTERPAW.

you couldn't save me but you can't let me go
May 29, 2024
64
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SHOULDA TAKEN A BREAK, NOT AN OXFORD COMMA​
splinterpaw knows this is simply a spar but they also don't care. stoatpaw has been one of the most pathetic cats that splinterpaw had the displeasure of being around and in an attempt to push him further, they've decided that they need to spar. with duskclan becoming more and more brave, and taking chances, they did not need weaklings who would die at the very sight of the band of rogues. their claws unsheathed and sheathed as their tail swayed behind them. they twitched their whiskers with a huff.

"i am not holding back. if rogues decide to tear this place fo shreds, you need to be able to defend yourself. do us both a favor, and fight for your life."

they've never held back before, why would they do it now? with a quick click of their tongue to the roof of their mouth, splinterpaw takes a few steps backwards. their claws come out as they bunch their muscles and run forward, aiming to dig their claws into his cheek to distract him. if successful, splinterpaw would try and pin the other to the ground, teeth bared and claws digging. he needed to fight back. splinterpaw would not stop until they were forced to.

// @Stoatpaw

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Stoatpaw cowered before Splinterpaw, the brown tom already wondering if perhaps agreeing to spar the other apprentice was a bad idea. He wanted to be strong, he did! And Splinterpaw was often the most aggressive apprentice, but in Stoatpaw's mind, that meant they were the most ready and able to fight for their clan and family.

The two were away from the others, with no mentors or other warriors nearby.

"My life-?" Stoatpaw began to ask quietly, before feeling the claws against his face. He didn't realize it was going to be such a violent spar, and he gasped at the sharp pain now on the side of his face. The distraction worked, as Stoatpaw quickly raised a paw to their cheek. The start had been too fast, he wasn't ready!

Stoatpaw quickly tried to push back at Splinterpaw, but the attempt was half-hearted at best. He hadn't even unsheathed his claws yet, not wanting to accidentally hurt his clanmate. Ebonyfield had always taught him to practice fight claws sheathed, and he innocently obeyed his mentor's words, even now. There had barely been just enough time to try and cuff Splinterpaw's ear before being taken to the ground, his legs kicking up at the cat in an attempt to shove them off.

Splinterpaw wouldn't really kill him, would he? That was silly, they were clanmates! This was just training, but Stoatpaw was beginning to feel scared at the ferocity in which the sparring match had begun.​

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SHOULDA TAKEN A BREAK, NOT AN OXFORD COMMA​
they only grunted when they were pushed off with barely any effort. it was only by pure luck thst stoatpaw managed to push them off because splinterpaw had been worried about one thing and one thing only. with a huff, they stand back up, shaking out their fur and growling as they begin to circle the younger apprentice, pale blue gaze narrowed as they walk.

"is this how you wish to defend windclan? by pretending to fight? do you think that duskclan will sit and wait for you to make up your mind? do you think any rogue will? how do you expect to live if you can't fight, stoatpaw?"

strength was the only thing that mattered. nothing else. only brute strength and strategy. to be a brute without smarts was useless and to be smart without brute strength was equally so. with a growl, splinterpaw aimed to run forward and grab stoatpaw by his scruff, tugging with sharp teeth and a loud snarl in an attempt to toss him to the side. if he was successful he would slowly walk over to the apprentice and aim to pin him with a heavy clawed paw by the muzzle, wanting to dig right in.

"you are weak. you need to be strong. you need to be better. fight back. you are of no use if you die. fight back."

in their own fucked up way, they cared about the younger cat. after seeing so many weak cats die at the claws of another, they're simply tired of seeing it. they had to drill it into others the hard way. the only way to survive was to fight as if their lives were always on the line– because they were.

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Stoatpaw was thrown aside, which was not a hard task considering the young tabby had inherited his mother's small size and stature. He hit the ground harder than he thought he would've, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him.

"S-Splinterpaw wait!" He squeaked out, shrinking in on himself as the claws dug into his face. Blood was already beginning to stain the ground from a few other scratches and wounds. Looking up at Splinterpaw, Stoatpaw was shivering with fear. None of this was what he had expected when he had agreed to spar with the other cat. Did he deserve this for being so small and weak?

Stoatpaw knew Splinterpaw was right in their assessment, he was weak, and he'd never be any help as he was against a real threat like Duskclan. Everything began to blur as tears stung his eyes. What was he going to do?

He tried one last time to deliver a soft blow, but it was clear that Stoatpaw had already quit the fight. He just wanted to go home.
"I'm sorry Splinterpaw! I'm sorry I'm not strong-" Was all he managed to get out as he tried to shuffle his way out from beneath their claws. His entire face was stinging from the earlier blows.
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ON HIS WAY OUT I MADE HIM SIGN AN NDA​
splinterpaw doesn't expect, of all things, to be apologized to. maybe a smack of a paw across their face– maybe even claws digging into skin to feel the all too familiar sting of their flesh ripping to cause an all new badge of honor. not... not this. it makes them freeze, claws sheathing and pulling away with ears pinned backwards, a look of confusion, and maybe even heartbreak, on their face. what... what am i...? they step off, face remaining indifferent. their voice isn't ever very loud, even during the spar of sorts, but especially not now.

"...just... get up."

the wounds are hardly enough to keep stoatpaw in the medicine den for more than a couple days. they're not even that deep– they mostly made sure of that. but blood is still spilling. they instinctively clean it off their paws before they aim to help stoatpaw up, swishing their tail back and forth as they look in the direction of camp. they step away, feeling uneasy about having to touch anyone in general, but if stoatpaw felt bad enough, they suppose they'd help. I've had way worse. even thistlepaw hit me harder than i hit stoatpaw. it probably won't even scar.

"camp. let's go."

they've talked entirely too much today. they dont have much left, so they're opting for choppier words. they didn't even realize they could feel this guilty. they're trying to make stoatpaw stronger! why couldn't he see that instead of begging for forgiveness for not being strong enough? why couldn't he just be stronger? that's what splinterpaw did. they didn't think it was very hard at all.

did... i take it too far?

// someone regrets their actions :3
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"Y-yeah."​

Stoatpaw sniffled, climbing to his paws. He tried to rub some of the dripping blood from his face, but instead just caused it to smear across his fur.
"I think I need to go see one of the medicine cats." Stoatpaw added quietly, his body low and submissive as it followed behind. The small tom hurried to keep up with Splinterpaw, body sore. He felt as if the cuts were a little too deep to be left without cobwebs, but perhaps he was being a baby about his injuries.

"I won't tell anybody." He added softly, unsure if it was needed. Splinterpaw didn't deserve to get in trouble because he couldn't hold his own. It wasn't their fault he was small and weak, hardly fit to be a warrior. Stoatpaw looked from side to side, trying to think of an excuse he could give when they returned to camp. Maybe he could just say one of those Duskclan cats attacked him? It seemed as if it could perhaps be a passable story, and he could just say that Splinterpaw had saved him!

It would work enough to get anyone to not ask anymore questions... at least, he hoped.


OOC:​
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