- Oct 17, 2022
- 454
- 78
- 28
MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————
Here is a little bit of loner wisdom: the best way to survive a fight is to not fight it. Like all of his mother’s lessons, Snakeblink took to it quickly and has never deviated from it since. He has become proficient at escaping, skilled in taking advantage of slipping past unnoticed or distracting his opponents enough that they give him an opening to run away. It is a valuable skill to have when one lives on his own, or with a small family unit with as few fighting capabilities as him.
Unfortunately, it ceases to be a valid strategy when one comes to live with a colony, or a clan; large groups of cats are prone to fighting, often one-on-one, and the unspoken laws of battle mean he cannot always count on the few duplicitous tactics he has learned over his life. As an adolescent, he and his siblings protected their freshkill by sneaking up on enemies busy facing their mother; such advantageous numbers are rare in skirmishes. He survived the Great Battle by pushing a pine cat under the water until they stopped struggling; now Flamewhisker flails him with her eyes every time their paths cross for having tried the same with her. He must face the truth: if he hopes to survive, to help his clan to the best of his ability, he must partake in… if not honorable, at least single combat.
The problem is this: Snakeblink has learned to run, and he has learned to sneak on distracted enemies.. But he has never learned how to fight. He is not eager to suffer all the injuries he’ll need to be taught by experience, and instinct will only take him so far.
Thankfully, there is an easy fix to this issue: he must be taught. Like an apprentice.
His first thought is to ask Cindershade, who is a fearsome fighter and his friend; but he has sparred with her before and knows this would not actually save him from getting scars. She is a brutal taskmaster when she wants to be. So he turned to another accomplished warrior, and one he knows to be gentler than the black lead warrior: Boneripple. He trusts she will make a good mentor.
Also, she is far less likely to make fun of him for his lack of skill than most others he thought of.
”Alright.” He exhales, shakes himself, rolls his shoulders. His thin eyes settle on the monochromatic molly, and he offers her a resolute nod. ”I’m ready. What should we start with?”
Unfortunately, it ceases to be a valid strategy when one comes to live with a colony, or a clan; large groups of cats are prone to fighting, often one-on-one, and the unspoken laws of battle mean he cannot always count on the few duplicitous tactics he has learned over his life. As an adolescent, he and his siblings protected their freshkill by sneaking up on enemies busy facing their mother; such advantageous numbers are rare in skirmishes. He survived the Great Battle by pushing a pine cat under the water until they stopped struggling; now Flamewhisker flails him with her eyes every time their paths cross for having tried the same with her. He must face the truth: if he hopes to survive, to help his clan to the best of his ability, he must partake in… if not honorable, at least single combat.
The problem is this: Snakeblink has learned to run, and he has learned to sneak on distracted enemies.. But he has never learned how to fight. He is not eager to suffer all the injuries he’ll need to be taught by experience, and instinct will only take him so far.
Thankfully, there is an easy fix to this issue: he must be taught. Like an apprentice.
His first thought is to ask Cindershade, who is a fearsome fighter and his friend; but he has sparred with her before and knows this would not actually save him from getting scars. She is a brutal taskmaster when she wants to be. So he turned to another accomplished warrior, and one he knows to be gentler than the black lead warrior: Boneripple. He trusts she will make a good mentor.
Also, she is far less likely to make fun of him for his lack of skill than most others he thought of.
”Alright.” He exhales, shakes himself, rolls his shoulders. His thin eyes settle on the monochromatic molly, and he offers her a resolute nod. ”I’m ready. What should we start with?”
——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely
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— Snakeblink • he / him. 43 ☾, riverclan warrior
— a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
— gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo