private LAST ONE STANDING &. frightpaw

[SPLINTERPAW.]

BUT MAYBE THAT'S A LIE​

---

"you sure you want to do this, kid? i don't think this is a fight you're gonna win."

his mentor doesn't mean it in the worst of ways. they simply are right. it's unlikely for him to win a fight like this– he hasn't been trained all too much in it. but he doesn't back down from anything. he wants to show his aunt that he can be just like her. he will be just like her. strong. willing to fight for those he loves. never backing down. he won't ever back down. so win or not, he won't stop trying. not once. not ever. even when his lungs burn, and he's bleeding. he won't stop.

"it's fine."

his voice is quiet but steady all the same. he looks over at the older and much more experienced apprentice and he has one thing in mind; don't give up. no matter what, he just will not give up. ever.

"alright. fine. go ahead. but no killing each other, got it?"

// a bit of a weak start @Frightpaw but feel free to powerplay everything and frightpaw winning! vulturepaw will take frightpaw off after my next post !

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[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Frightpaw stares at her opponent as his mentor warns him of the likelihood of this battle's outcome. It irks her, somewhat, to have it already determined who will win. It takes away the fun if they're already expecting the loss. Not that this guy can afford to have a false sense of security. She clocks his short stature, his bony build - the only impressive thing about him is his large paws - but those are inevitably useless once they're pinned beneath a prone body. Easy pickings.

Normally, Frightpaw only cares to contend with an actual challenge. She never would've accepted this fight if all that it was chalked up to be was a normal one-on-one. After all, why bother if - again - it was already clear who'd be the winner? But to Frightpaw, today, this had less to do with winning and losing, and more so everything to do with jealousy.

Splinterpaw - weak, sniveling little gopher of a cat - had everything Frightpaw wanted.
So she would make sure she at least took something from him.


The fight starts, and she's off. A blow here, a blow there, a parry, a bluff, a dodge. She whips around the smaller cat quite easily despite her larger size, using her long tail to distract, confuse, and even shield if she can lash it in front of a striking paw quickly enough. Battles are rarely ever drawn-out things, but this one is criminally short. A smack here, a kick of dirt there, and she's surging forth, shoving the younger tom's shoulders down until his chin smacks quite painfully on the earth.
She'll give him one thing - the boy doesn't know when to give up.
By sheer force of will he scrambles and fights and does his absolute best, but there's no contending with size and experience. It irritates her. Disgusts her.

So she prickles her claws against the skin of his scruff, shoving all her weight into the back of his neck so he's forced to eat a mouthful of dust.
" Go on, pick yourself up " she meows, keeping her grip firm so he can't, " Don't tell me that's the best you can do. This is all you can offer your clan? Your family? " her grin is filled with broken glass, " Good thing no one expects you to win. "

She leans in close and whispers into his ear, " Trying your best doesn't keep people from dying, does it? "

*+:｡.｡ Updated 9/21/24

• 
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightpaw
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan apprentice
  ☾ Sister to Deathpaw, Witherpaw, Grasspaw, Whitepaw and Midnightpaw
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically easy | mentally medium
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

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[SPLINTERPAW.]

BUT MAYBE THAT'S A LIE​

---

he has to try. he wants to win. he needs to win. the urge to be better, to fight and win, to silence, makes him get up. over and over, relentlessly even when he feels like his lungs may full on give out. everything burns within him, and he is so tired, heaving and wheezing with every aching breath. his lungs can't handle it. he coughs, feeling as if he's drowning all at once. weak little lungs, from such a weak little kit. he can't breathe and frightpaw continues to humiliate him. he can't do this. but he has to. for his mother. for his siblings. for his dad. he can't be weak. get up. get up.

it's no use. he can't move. she's got him firmly in her grip, and her words fill his veins like oil, sticking everywhere and about to be set on fire. he can feel himself burning alive from the inside with every word she says. shut up. his voice is lost. has she always been this loud? why is she so fucking loud? stop it. and he swears the sound of his heart shattering is louder than her. his claws dig into the ground, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to get her off.

"GET OFF, GET OFF, GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE FUCKING TALKING ABOUT! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOURE TOO LOUD! YOU'RE TOO FUCKING LOUD"

it's no use. without help from his mentor who refuses to step in, he is stuck to frightpaw's mercy.

// @Vulturepaw

​