Answer received with a prompt for more, he can't help but feel a little disappointed, especially as Bluepool praises Morningsong for what Luckypaw hadn't said, too unsure of even his simple guess. In hindsight, as the lead warrior begins to elaborate on the answer and Badgermoon chimes in as well, it's obvious that any of the places he had thought - face, eyes, nose - were sensitive targets, and he feels all the more silly for second-guessing himself in the first place. Squirming slightly in place to try and get the nervous itch out of his pelt, he still tries to listen carefully to all the knowledge given out, trying to will a spot for it to stay in the back of his skull - the throat, the belly, the eyes, the spine. Not too hard to remember those things, though he worries in the heat of battle his memory might give out, might fail to recall just where to swipe and where to defend. Surely it will come naturally, at least some of it; battle instincts and fear for his own life kicking in, and all that. For a moment, Luckypaw imagines himself on a battlefield, war-torn flesh and battle cries all around, and he wonders - would he really remember all the best places to strike, or would he become too quickly overwhelmed? At the very least he'll remember to target the eyes, he thinks - already his half-baked answer seems to haunt him, words tucked away to pick at his brain later when no one else is around.
Sparring is announced as the next objective, and that catches his attention - somehow, the idea that sparring would come after discussing weak points had been lost on him, and now it almost catches him by surprise. Bluepool tells them to pair off, approaching Badgermoon himself to partner up, and for a moment Luckypaw is left feeling adrift, as if an island all his own, though of course out of those present there's one familiar set of eyes that he could never fail to turn to. Scorchpaw finds him first, however, burning gaze already fixed on him, and as she asks if he wants to partner up, a part of him wants to say no, to tell her to find another apprentice to spar with - another moor runner, maybe, someone more well-matched to her. Plain and simple, he doesn't want to fail against her, especially not in front of so many other apprentices, as well as Bluepool and Badgermoon. Clearly, she'll be the better combatant - and yet, that's not what comes out when he goes to speak. "Oh - yeah, sure, we can be partners." He says it with a smile, hardly more confident than he feels but persevering nonetheless. How could he say no to Scorchpaw, to his littermate, like that, or risk fouling both their moods? Besides, it saves him the worry of seeking out another partner, other apprentices like Milkpaw and Sedgepaw already gravitating to one another. Limbs feeling awkward, Luckypaw tries to ready himself, small frame crouching down slightly even as he tries to make sure he stays light on his paws. "So, do you want to start, or-?"
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]
