pafp PARK THAT CAR | spar

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchstorm still remembers when she first met Featherspine and her siblings. They'd been wriggling, freshly born, at Wolfsong's belly, and she'd had a sense that day that she'd moved out of one role and into a new one. From the youngest apprentice to the not-youngest apprentice; from an underclassman to an upperclassman; something along those lines that marked some sort of maturity, she thinks. Now, they stand facing each other as warriors. It's almost strange to think of how fast they'd grown — or maybe it is her own growth that is stranger, so fast and then so slow. She'd grown up on that mountain and then she'd come off it in a stasis. She'd holed up in that barn and when she left she was suddenly moons older. Quick, then slow, quick then slow; these rhythms of her life feel out of sync with her peers, in hindsight, but it is not something Scorchstorm begrudges them for.

Instead, she is excited to face Featherspine now, tail lashing with anticipatory pleasure. "You're a warrior now!" she purrs, congratulatory, if not a bit belated. Featherspine has been a warrior for nearly half a moon now, but it still feels fresh in Scorchstorm's mind. She puffs out her chest, broad shoulders squaring to cut an intimidatingly large figure. Even if Featherspine had been young when Badgermoon was around, the cats who knew him would undeniably see him in his daughter's frame. "Let's see you fight like one." Her voice drops low, but good-humored; infused with competitive spirit that she'd had since she was a kit playing with Luckypaw. Without warning, Scorchstorm darts towards Featherspine's side, aiming to strike down on his head with a sheathed paw. Giving him the first move would be too generous, she's decided. It's better to spar this way — it mimics a real fight more closely.

/ @FEATHERSPINE

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌

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• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw . scorchstorm
  — she/they ; warrior of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by sixbane
  — penned by meghan

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[FEATHERSPINE]

What a horrendous fool he'd be to squander Bluepool's teachings- Featherspine was not planning on it at all. Scorchstorm, like her mother, had been a fairly constant presence in her life- and generally, a well-regarded one. She had been on the Journey, and proudly bore a warrior name that sang of strength- she was certainky not a Clanmate whom the cinnamon tom looked down upon with disdain aflame in golden glare. In fact, she was almost smiling as Scorchstorm spoke a slightly-delayed congratulations- and perhaps unexpectedly, Featherspine did not speak out to complain about the tardiness. "Took long enough," he murmured- something akin to a joke. Though it had very much felt as if his entire life had lead up to it.

A spar, though- and it was an honour to fight against a warrior who she respected, rather than one who irritated her, but bore the name of a Clanmate regardless. Scorchstorm would not treat her like a kit, would not go easy on her- and proved that thought immediately by jumping forward. Featherspine readied to be pounced upon, but was instead flanked and struck- he recovered fairly quickly though, shaking off the brief burst of pain and managing to sustain his balance. Bluepool was a tactical fighter, too- he was used to it.

Reacting, Featherspine aimed a swinging strike across Scorchstorm's legs, throwing a considerable amount of her weight into the strike- if her balance did not falter, at least he could swivel himself to try and direct her attention toward the glaring direction of the sun. ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[FROSTWIND]

꙳•❅* He doesn’t mind standing on the sidelines, cheering his sister on as she beats the tar out of their clanmate. At least, he hopes that’s what Scorchstorm will do—it’s nothing against Featherspine, but seeing his sister succeed in a spar would make his day a great deal brighter. He knows the calico can hold her own in a fight, trained by their father and then Sunstar himself, but Featherspine has training from a lead warrior, too. However, Featherspine is younger, even if only by a season. The cinnamon tabby may stand a chance, but if anything the two are on even footing.

Svorchstorm lunges forward, and in her he sees their father. The lines of her shoulders, broad and powerful, portray an image that he could never hope to emulate. They’re… opposites, in a way. She, with their mother’s coloring but built in their father’s image. He, drenched with shadow and snow in Badgermoon’s likeness, but built to follow in their mother’s pawsteps. Scorchstorm fights with a ferocity that he simply doesn’t have, and it’s awe-inspiring to watch.

He doesn’t cheer, doesn’t risk distracting either of them—but he watches, smile on his face, awaiting his sister’s next move.

❆ outpace the dawn

• ooc: —
• 
  FROSTWIND ❯❯ he/him, tunneler of windclan
  ❆ scruffy black and white tom with icy eyes. sly and calculating.
  ❆ son of scorchstreak and badgermoon ; brother to scorchstorm, luckypaw, rumblerain
  ❆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ❆ penned by foxlore

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