pafp like an empty sail takes the wind | sparring (prompt thread)

[Flycatcher]

By his own admission, Flycatcher was not the best fighter in ThunderClan. What skills he did possess were in a more defensive style of combat, preferring to fell an opponent or use his environment to aid him rather than outright hitting or kicking them. Despite his lacking fighting skills, Flycatcher was always eager to try and improve them...even if it seemed like any improvements were slow to show or were not happening at all.

Flycatcher had asked Freckleflame if she had wanted to spar with him that morning and the she-cat had readily accepted. The spar had been going well, both cats managing to hit and knock each other down a few times, but Flycatcher was beginning to feel himself start to lag. He tried to mitigate this fatigue by trying to sweep her legs when she made a dive at him, but unfortunately miscalculated a little, thus resulting in Freckleflame twisting free of him, and sending them both tumbling to the ground. They thrashed on the ground before Flycatcher could finally take no more and asked to be released. "That was...good," Flycatcher commended, when he rose to his paws. His words broken up by him taking a second to catch his breath. "There can be no denying Wolfwind taught you well."

// please wait for @FRECKLEFLAME ​

 

[freckleflame]

freckleflame looooved sparring. it took out the nervousness and bloodshed from something all too real, but still made her heart beat quicker all the same — so when flycatcher had approached her for practice, she’d hit him with the yeah-yeah-yeah tippy toe dance combo. this. she could do this, no problem, no sweat. she plods after him with her tail high, to where he stands against her, and she wastes no time. if only she could keep this steady in battle, back when the rogues had attacked and she’d only managed to crush one briefly before she slunk from under her with razor claws at her belly. hitting the hard - compacted dirt felt familiar, reminiscent of her early days standing off, fur fluffed, against sparkpaw. a tussle that left her dirty and lodged with leaves and twine she would holler about until someone plucked out the ones she couldn’t reach. flycatcher was not an unworthy opponent, not by any means, quick as he was. he was thunderclan’s deputy, after all. the tortoiseshell had viewed him in a light guilded gold for that alone, too - perfect.

that day along the thunderpath had left her with a slow, quiet inkling of something in her chest, some mending thought so ingrained into her skull that she’d only thought it fact. each of them, the wide - eyed wonders she’d thought without weakness, had been in her same position. a warrior. just a cat, same as the rest. mistakes come, and mistakes go. same as the rest wasn’t a bad thing, she thinks, in the seconds that she has to do so before flycatcher is coming at her again and she falls, unprepared for the low - aimed blow and topples, her size both a strength and her biggest detriment. she makes an undignified sound as she hits the dirt again, a cloud of disrupted dirt lifting from the ground in a grainy poof. flycatcher, however, is panting — she can hear it, can tell he’s beginning to wear down. without wasting a second she wriggles, breaks free from his grip and aims a full - frontal attack, wide arms outstretched to either side of her. like a bird, she’d think, if the only thing she were focusing on wasn’t taking her opponent to the ground.

it was normal, to have weakness. it was normal, too, to have strengths. she tells herself this and prays she isn’t still exempt.

freckleflame isnt expecting flycatcher is swept from his paws so easily. she’s expecting resistance, but when they collide, her full - thrown body weight topples them both over into the ground. it’s a tactic she and sparkwing had learned long ago, to use her weight against her enemies like her father before her. she lands on top of him, a paw to his chest, uses all of her might to lean that paw into place until he relents — and he does. she’s panting when he calls for mercy, and she hits him with a look of utter bewilderment. “ what, now? “ she days, as if his tapping out were a ploy to distract her. she lifts the pressure from him anyway, stumbles her paw back to the ground. she is rumpled, sore where he’s thrown her, but she — she won. she fought the thunderclan deputy and won, “ ha. ha ha! “ it’s shocked, a slow, startled laugh as dips down, instinctivel aims to help him off the ground with a shoulder. wolfwind taught you well, he says, and she beams, lets her eyes flick briefly upwards as if the smoky she-cat would suddenly appear.

pride swollen in her chest, she grins something wild and proud, nudging him playfully with a shoulder and crowing with her tail held high, “ yeah, yeah, but what happened to you? i swear, i ain’t never seen anyone hit th’ ground like that, we oughta start callin’ you fawnlegs. “ she’d rethink her tongue later, but with excitement rolling high and leaving her hopping on tippy toes despite the sting of exhaustion in her limbs, she can only smile, “ you didn’t blow it for me on purpose, huh? tell me ya didn’t, i can’t believeee i did that — “

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

• i.
  
• 
  
  
• 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK. SIXTEEN MOONS. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY. NAMED WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. PENNED BY ANTLERS .. !!!
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! shades of vibrant russet, dousing swathes of shadow and interwoven with ribbons pale cream come to drape like licks of flame over a thick, broad - shouldered figure.
  
  unspecified maine coon heritage born of sunfreckle's kittypet background shows itself in large, round paws and tufted, long - furred toes set upon thick, tabby - splotched limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers, all while bearing a wide, bright - eyed grin. she seems to sing confidence from every laugh, every word.. that can't all be for show, can it?
  
  ——— ˙⋆ — prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.
  
  

​

 

[Shinebug]

If there was one thing Shinepaw didn’t understand (and there were many) it was why cats liked fighting. The anxious apprentice recognized it as necessary - the boy had requested combat lessons after the rouges attacked, after all - but he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could possibly enjoy it. Hunting let you see the smiles and full bellies of your clanmates. Patrolling let you get a walk in while making sure your home was safe. Sparring? It just left you sweaty, sore, and bruised. Where was the fun in that?

Shinepaw didn’t like judging others, but he couldn’t help wondering if Freckleflame had a few screws loose when she not only requested to spar, but asked Flycatcher for a match. He was the deputy! The apprentice obviously had an inflated view of his own mentor, but the boy still imagined that there had to be a considerable skill gap between the two.

So, as he sat on the sidelines and tried to take notes, the shaft of sunlight felt his jaw slacken as sky-blue eyes saw Flycatcher fall to the ground and throw in the towel. Shinepaw was quick to dash forwards, worry causing him to help his mentor up (even though the experienced cat didn’t need the assistance). The boy glared for a moment at Freckleflame as she gloated, but reigned in the urge to defend his mentor’s honor.

“That was a cool move. How’d you do it?” Shinepaw asked softly, silently panicking as he worried about if Flycatcher would be upset about his apprentice asking someone else for combat tips.​

 

[Flycatcher]

He's still metaphorically licking his wounds when Freckleflame starts gloating. For the most part he wouldn't begrudge her for celebrating. It had been his own foolish mistake that had caused him to slip and she had a right to celebrate if she so wished. However, he felt his cheeks start to warm in embarrassment when she teased him about never seeing anyone else hit the ground like that and then asking if he had purposely thrown the spar for her sake. He's struggling for an answer when Shinepaw approached and helped Flycatcher up. The gesture settles him for a moment before Shinepaw comments on Freckleflame's final move and he feels the embarrassment washing over him again. It really made him think on his own skills again, how poorly they often fared in comparison to his more combative clanmates. However, despite his embarrassment, he was still keen to improve and better himself. The defeat would sting today but come tomorrow it would not even bother him. "Mhm, it was impressive," Flycatcher mewed, agreeing with his apprentice on that matter. "Would you mind showing me as well?"​

 

[Flamestar]

Fighting was never a skill that Flamewhisker had ever truly felt knowledgeable in. She could hold her own in a fight, but her paws were definitely more meant for hunting. What battle moves she had were ones she had learned by watching and sparring with other loners, and by watching her clanmates spar with one another. She had learned more during her time in Thunderclan than she ever had as a loner, but most of her free time beforehand had been filled with making sure she and her mother were well fed.

She watched the spar between her mate and her best friend's daughter. Of course she was rooting for Flycatcher, but she couldn't help but giggle when Freckleflame won. She looked to Acornpaw who was sitting beside her, and she gently touched her shoulder with her tail. "We'll have to practice that move later. It brought down the mighty Flycatcher." she added the last sentence on, shooting a teasing glance towards him. ​

★ don't need to save me

• @Acornpaw.​
• 
  FLAMEWHISKER of THUNDERCLAN
  LH red tabby with low white (masks black tabby, carries dilute, solid)
  — Lead Warrior of Thunderclan ; currently mentoring Acornpaw
  — she/her ; mated with Flycatcher
  — mother to Stormfeather & Falconheart
  — 27 moons ; ages on the 20th
  — Smells like dirt, old leaves, tree sap, faint hint of flowers
  — will start a fight, will finish fights, will kill (case depending)
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by Icey ! ; link to tags
  — link to toyhouse​