PAY THE DEVIL TWICE AS MUCH | rta / sparring

[GOLDENDAWN]

( trigger warning for the first few paragraphs for containing detailed mentions of gore and a dead body. it's not important (only the last part is), just a bit of elaboration on golden's backstory <3 )

Melusine - no, Goldendawn - had joined the faceless ranks of Thunderclan a mere moon ago. Like the sleek-plumed predator cloaked in nightly shadow, she had attempted to blend in with those that called themselves clan cats, though not nearly with enough grace that the gauche gloom coveted. She had stumbled, yet arrived nonetheless. Despite her short-lived presence within the woodlands, so much had happened that it felt like a whole year had transpired, as if a mere blink could wrest forth seasons from dormancy. It was certainly a lot to take in for her, sheltered in the shade of Fortuna's folly. From the death of the leader that had accepted her to the succession of the new queen, it felt as though Golden had witnessed the cessation and resuscitation of a nation, a phoenix of a kingdom. Is it... truly that easy? She had never known power as a thing to be transferred as a torch would be. It was something to be gifted by one's heritage, one's legacy, one's own fate crafted from tangled string and knotted twine.

But, most prominently and urgently, a pack of dogs had taken hold of Sunningrocks. Those slobbering, snivelling, snarling beasts of war. She knew they had naught the intelligence of the feline, nor the benediction of the hand of her goddess. So they, like every other cat, were damned by nature of living.

She remembered when she was but a mere kitten in the talons of the Diviners, as though roosted upon the abyssal embrace of her parents and their blood-kin, yet she found her resting place upon the thistles and twists. Borne of a wrenched laurel and weaned upon blood-blossomed garden, she found comfort in the macabre. The grotesque was but another facet of life, and blood was but another fluid that flowed like the water of a river or the honey of a beehive. She came across the corpse of a great hound with its mouth agape, skin sagged from the sun's scrape and eyes gouged out by whatever scavenging bird got a hold of it first. It was inglorious, just like all condemned to death were. Dried and left to rot, a waste of what once was. The dog was hung upon a wreath of thickets and leaves as though gingerly abandoned by a force crueler than it, set out to wither in the harsh sunlight as some morbid display of the former throes of a bruter bigger than the shadows cast by long day. It was reassuring, in a way, to see such an apex predator meet the same end as those beneath her.

Now, she could only hope that these dogs would meet that same fate.

--

She had hardly gotten used to her new name yet, and found the words almost unbefitting of a creature of mortal standing, as though she hadn't the honor to be bestowed the harbinger of her own doomsday. She requested the name because she always wanted to be reminded of her past. Still, it felt wrong to attribute the Golden Dawn to only herself, but there was little space to fill with bloated complaints. She found the presence of her fellow Thunderclanners nothing less than an underpath of thorns, tongue tripping on social faux pas after another. Great Fortuna, she knew it would be hard to start anew but not this hard. Still, she swallowed her pride for the sake of any home that would take such a destitute creature as herself, for any mother that would take the time to upturn such a spurned chick would surely be a kind-hearted one - or, at least, a gullible one.

Goldendawn's sharpened claws lie behind their velvet sheath, with weapons of war so eager to reveal the red that swam beneath satin skin, to expunge the pressure of flesh and leave it to the fangs of winter to devour. Not that she had the desire to attack one of her clanmates in cold blood - though, with every irritation, the temptation thrummed with more temerity. The cold drafts of a waning leaf-bare breathed hot upon her trail, and she could sense the new-leaf approaching, though slow and steady as it may come. In all her life, she had noticed how the seasons melted into one another, seeping weather into one big soup that would occasionally be stirred and spurred about. She simply bided her time for leaf-bare to take its leave. With such a short coat, it made it hard for her to stay warm. A sun-kissed glimmer darted in an olive gaze, glancing about like a frantic yet fixed candlelight. "If anyone would like to spar with me, please follow me to the Sandy Hollow." A quilted voice hung upon the air, and the Abyssinian-coated molly then made her descent into the gloom of the oaken forest.​

 

[Sunnyday]

☀ - WHILST MY HEART STILL BEATS
A chance to spar seemed like a welcome distraction, and not only that but offered a vital opportunity to sharpen up his skills. Sunnyday knew that he needed the practice, especially as he grew older and ever weaker thanks to the ravages of health and time. The tom homed in on Goldendawn with a bounce in his step which caused his longer fur to flow in an elegant way despite its usually mussy state. "I'll go with you. I haven't had a good spar in a while." He cooed as padded alongside the Abyssinian through the woods, admittedly with an air of wariness about their surroundings.
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[GOLDENDAWN]

Luckily, another warrior had taken up her offer - she was glad she hadn't come off as too weird about it, as she simply mimicked another offer that she had heard before. She was but a pale imitation, a wresting wraith, a mere ghost of the Lamb she used to be. When she thought of it that way, it was hard not to let the darkness of abyssal despair guide her fall. Like the seabird to the oily ocean, she merely hovered above such depravity aloft wings of hope - albeit, crafted of sparks and glimmers rather than anything concrete. Hope was hope, no matter where it came from. She nodded at Sunnyday as they both walked to the Sandy Hollow, no gratuitous word falling from graceful lips, for all that needed to be communicated would be shown upon the twines of features and ripples of muscles.

As they walked, many of the other Thunderclanners flitted in to watch the battle, murmurs fluttering about the rather cramped space. Even the tersest of whispers made Golden's ears swivel, with a hyperattentive acknowledgement of the blood-kin and all the bile-kin that rustled between the fronds and knolls. She had learned to parse the speak of Divine-kin from the muddled, mawkish meows of those outside of them. Now, her world had been thrown into disarray, and every word sounded just the same as the other. The anxiety of all those eyes on her prickled at her hackles, thorns buried just beneath the skin though never enough to draw out reds, but still apparent enough for her to scorn it. There hadn't even been as many Diviners in one place as there were in this clan. Still, the smaller molly faced her opponent with a burning glare, as though an undercurrent of flame ran beneath the jade of cut jewels for eyes. Despite her gauche nature around an unfamiliar environment, that roguish spirit had never extinguished itself in the face of un-recognition.

You cannot draw his blood, the reminder tolled in her head like a foreboding bell, a heart pounding within the brittle-boned cage of her ribs. She couldn't do anything that could uproot her place within the clan that had graciously taken her in, and couldn't even toddle the line between law and disorder. Every move was calculated, sure, mechanical. Still, she lunged for Sunnyday's flank with her claws outstretched. She was careful not to aim too deep beneath the flesh, angling herself just so, if the hit connected, it would only graze at the skin.​

 

[LICHENPAW ❁]

( ☘ ) Lichenpaw knew Goldendawn as a fellow outsider, one who had joined not long before he had. Yet, the tom had yet to speak with her -- she seemed above it all somehow, unapproachable. Her words were strange, speak of "blood-kin" and "divine-kin" flying right over his head (and seemingly, the rest of the clan cats' as well). She was rather intimidating, if he had to be honest.

Still though, a spar was a spar.

Restless as the apprentice was, her words caught his ear. He'd been tempted to offer; getting to fight with an actual trained warrior would do him good he thinks, rather than keeping to apprentices or his mentor. In real battles, opponents cannot always be chosen, of course. Yet his mentor is the one who speaks first, Sunnyday offering good naturedly to join Goldendawn in a spar. Lichenpaw finds he's not disappointed, though, following the pair to Sandy Hollow as spectator instead. Maybe he can take round two, after seeing how the molly fights. He'll have an advantage then.

Goldendawn is quick to attack, catching Lichenpaw off gaurd. He startles, and silently berates himself for it -- he's not even the one fighting. But Sunnyday is so... "Uh, Go -- go Sunnyday! You, uh, you've got this!" he cheers, uncertainty more a product of unfamiliarity with friendly sparring than a lack of confidence in his mentor. Sunnyday can handle himself.​

 

[Sunnyday]

☀ - WHILST MY HEART STILL BEATS
As they arrived in the Sandy Hollow the tom strode over to a good starting point so he could prepare himself for the spar to begin. He was aware that Lichenpaw had come along and was now watching them, so naturally he felt a responsibility to do well. At least he was getting a little cheer of support so he offered his apprentice a warm smile in return. "Thanks Lichenpaw, hopefully you'll get a turn after us." Or rather he'd ensure the youth got a chance whilst they could. The area seemed safe and it was pretty dry that day, so perfect!

Seeing where his opponent was heading with her first strike a plan immediately sprang into the lanky tom's mind. Naturally he intended to fall back onto his old battle habits of utilising brute strength and shock factors, so he allowed the strike to hit regardless of the pain but he aimed to swing his hips round to slam into Goldendawn with the hopes of winding her. From there he started on his next move, aiming to grab hold of Goldendawn's nearest hind leg with the intention of hauling it out from under her and leaving her completely unbalanced.
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[GOLDENDAWN]

To Goldendawn's surprise, Sunnyday's side did not shirk away from the connecting blow, as if the older warrior stood as a bastion instead of a living, breathing blood-kin opponent. Should I have unsheathed my claws for this? Does he... want to bleed? She wanted to fulfill that vicarious request of his, though she did not allow that thought to consume her composure as the serpent did the egg. She could not risk it. She was much better than an adder in that regard, as she was no bile-kin who struck and squirm without regard nor will. She could control herself, though punching herself down was not something that she had ever imagined herself doing. Owlish olive gaze quickly darted towards the approaching form of Lichenpaw, as he cheered for Sunnyday with a wavering conviction. Placing your bets on the older and more experienced warrior... A smart move. His mottled pelt of earthen tones rang unfamiliar yet not completely unrecognizable, as she remembered seeing him join Thunderclan not long after she did, and a slight curiosity of his origins kindled in her mind. There were only so many places a feline could come from, and she had not grown used to it yet. The world was vast, much more vast than she could handle.

In heartbeats of distraction, she felt her center of gravity shift from an assured balance, as though the ground had become more ice-ridden than leaf-bare had rendered it. Quickly, she was thrown from the raindrop rhythm of water-like grace, as if the tempest could bay its temper for a disjointed moment in time. Once a storm raged, it could not be sated until it deemed itself so, but that was not the case for the squall-fashioned warrioress. Though, she was keen not to let herself err in a moment of weakness. It could mean life or death - perhaps not in the woolen shelters of the clans, but in the hinterlands of the horizons where she had hailed. Even as she had sustained quite a hit, she managed to roll up and strike once more with a paw of snake's temper, a speedy jab though with a little less accuracy than her last attempt.​

 

[Cloudyfur]

Cloudypaw had eagerly followed along at the heels of the two warriors as they set out for their sparring match. With how behind she was the other apprentices in training, she needed all the help she could get. She could only hope that she'd learn something watching the two of the.

Watching with wide eyes, she settled into place as the match began. Silent and still, she took in every move, leaning forward at every attack and wincing with every hit. They both seemed to fight as naturally as they walked. Every move impressed her. Whenever she fought, it made her feel so clumsy and stilted. Nothing like this. With a flick of her ear, Cloudypaw thought to herself that she'd be lucky if she ever even got close to matching one of these two for skill.

A cheer broke her concentration.

With a blink, she glanced at Lichenpaw. Shrugging him off, she turned back toward the sparring, but as her eyes caught Goldendawn she felt a pang of pity for the other molly. It wasn't fair that only Sunnyday had someone cheering for him, she hated to imagine how she would feel if everyone was cheering against her. Goldendawn needed someone to cheer for her too.

"Um. Go Goldendawn." Cloudypaw offered awkwardly with a half-hearted cheer. She felt a bit too silly doing it to put her heart into it.​

 

[Sunnyday]

☀ - WHILST MY HEART STILL BEATS
Less accurate or not, it still caught Sunnyday solidly across the nose and caused him to flinch away with a grunt of pain and his eyes screwed shut. It left the tom reeling for a moment longer than he liked and even when he reopened his eyes he still had to take a moment to blink away the fuzziness until his vision cleared. However, he wasn't deterred from continuing the sparring match, especially now that Cloudypaw was cheering Goldendawn. Deciding to utilise his size and strength once more, he attempted to ram his full body into the she-cat's shoulder with the intentions of forcing her to the ground. If successful he would then aim to follow up by trying to pin her to the ground under him.
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