LITTLE LEAGUE [ ash + steep ]

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) the wet scent of warmer months floats heavy on the leaf-bare breeze as the smoky femme leads her two charges along the sodden riverbank. glancing behind her as she steps carefully around bits of debris from the recent flooding, she shoots a bright grin at the sight of the apprentices, the flame of ashpaw and the mottled soot of steeppaw a welcome sight after so many moons away. "stars, its about time i get to take you two back out," willowroot comments, amusement in her tone. slowing to allow the two younger felines to catch up, fern hued eyes will gaze around, scanning for a relatively clear area. "i love my kits, starclan knows, but i missed you guys. i suppose you're ready to get back to training too, huh?"

leading the two towards a small clearing in the reeds and brambles, willowroot paces a few tail lengths away and turns to address her charges. "i thought we could do a bit of battle training today, seeing as the river is being problematic," a gesture behind them, where the ice shelled body of water swells out of its banks. "now, i know we touched a bit on fighting stances a few sessions ago, but i want to see what you guys already know. so, ash, if you could come stand where i am, and steep you can face her, i'd like to see your crouches."
@ashpaw! @Steeppaw ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[ashpaw!]

She's afraid, loathe to admit it — but she's brave enough to try, brave enough to follow with head held high. Last time Ashpaw had a proper fighting lesson — well, it wasn't with Willowroot, and it didn't end well. So she's anxious.

Glass-green eyes flick over the scene, from her mentor's encouraging face to Steeppaw's athletic form — the other girl must be excited. Steeppaw never seems to slow down, and Ashpaw has envied that before. She used to spend so much time wishing, and Steeppaw was a girl she wished after often; they started out like twins, wild creatures, rambunctious and competitive. They became so ... disparate. Opposite.

She wonders how it'll even go, training together. Steeppaw must be leagues ahead of her, with all the time Ashpaw has spent benched. The little orange tabby takes a deep breath. That train of thought won't do her any good; she's here to learn, and it's fine if she doesn't measure up to Steeppaw. Willowroot isn't like Pebbleskip ... won't shame her for it, won't be cruel.

And she doesn't want to waste her time with envy. Ashpaw's shown her mettle, to herself and everyone around her. She may be behind, but she won't dwell on it; forward, always forward.

"Yes, Willowroot," she murmurs, dropping into the requested crouch, eyes fixed on Steeppaw — and already her heart's beating a little quicker, thinking of what Willowroot will ask next. But crouches are fine — crouches don't carry memories. She can't mess this one up. Focus, Ash.
​

—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• bby is nervous
  
  
• - 8 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - crushing hard on iciclepaw
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - "speech"
• - KICKED FOX ASS
  

​

 

[Steepsnout]

WE'RE TAKING OVER THE WORLD, A LITTLE VICTIMLESS CRIME ➳​

Steeppaw followed her mentor and Ashpaw with a sturdy stride. It had been a rough few moons but she was determined to be the very pillar of strength. Flooded camp- no problem. Dogs across the river, well that's not worrying at all! She'd be ready, have the situation on lock. Yeah. An idle slab of citrine looked to her fellow apprentice. It was good to be out together again, training wasn't the same alone. Comparisons couldn't be made to thin air and she needed some good competition. How else did she know where she stood?

An easy grin met Willowroot's chatter, thoughts quickly captured by talk of their kits. Kits were always so funny. Her inky ears flared at the mention of battle training, the molly's open-book nature clear as ice. "Yuh-huh! This is gonna be good." Steeppaw hastened to the spot her mentor pointed to and fell into her crouch. Fighting was her thing- she practised these moves whenever she could. Her stocky form was bunched tightly, broad paws planted into the cold earth with confidence.

Wrinkled snout facing Ashpaw, she gave the red tabby a wiggle of the shoulders in the hopes of tempting out some excitement. Spars were better if they were both down for it- claws crossed that's what Willowroot was getting to.

/sorry this is late!
​