private RED-LINING ˚୭ ospreypaw

[DIZZYPAW]

"FATE IS A SUNDRESS" ˚୭ .ೃ⁀➷ tags ── A PROPOSAL OF THICKETNOSE: a sparring session. Dizzypaw approaches the idea with a hesitance unfitting of her. An array of possibilities race through her mind: what if something goes wrong? What if this is an unfair match? She knows that her thoughts are mostly borne of a false hesitance, but she worries all the same.

Ospreypaw is the one that joins their little group on the shuffle to the beech copse. Though she offers Ospreypaw a "hello" like she knows is polite, she's not sure how well that she will be received; this works to further unnerve her. Though they share a den, Dizzypaw still would say that she isn't entirely friendly with the other silver and blue apprentice. She just simply hasn't taken much time to just converse with them, or to do much more than share pleasantries or a meal. Dizzypaw feels like she can say that about nearly everyone in the clan, at this point; when will she get to know everyone on more than just a base level? It's a measure of discouraging, though she has been trying her very hardest to put herself out there more. She is a curious thing by nature; she needs water that curiosity like a garden.

Dizzypaw is brought back to her initial worry as she finds her footing along the clearing of the beech copse. A certain unease finds itself back in her stomach. They've been given rough rules: no claws, no actual intent or possibility to harm. It dissuades Dizzypaw's thoughts some, but not - oh, no.. It strikes her like a clan cat swipes out for a fish: Dizzypaw is likely of kittypet stock. Oh, goodness - doesn't Ospreypaw know? How couldn't Ospreypaw know, unless they'd forgotten? Dizzypaw finds herself frozen and without her wits for a moment. Thicketnose only affixes her with a confused expression when she looks to him for help; she's lost her chance to get her move in first.

@Ospreypaw​

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[Ospreypaw]

TAGS — When Cindersong had suggested a sparring session to her apprentice, Ospreypaw had readily agreed. With twolegs teeming at the edges of their territory and camp, there was no room to not be abundantly prepared; though the upwalkers outmatch cats ten to one, there's no reason to not be sharpening her combat skills, right? Especially with the WindClan scent they'd found at Troutsnout's disappearance site.... While Ospreypaw remains unconvinced of her capture by twolegs, it would be just as bad if WindClan knew that RiverClan was vulnerable now. Maybe they'd attack camp while their warriors were captured? Ospreypaw would need to hold her own, then.

These are the thoughts running through her mind when Dizzypaw offers her meek hello. The silver-knit girl flicks a nicked ear and glances over in acknowledgment. They aren't friends, but they've shared a den for a couple moons now, and it's not like Dizzypaw is particularly annoying or unskilled in a way she doesn't like, despite her uncertain heritage — still, Ospreypaw's sharp face looks severe even at its most neutral. It's no wonder the other girl is unnerved. "Hi," is all the older apprentice offers as they trek to the beech copse.

The apprentices get into position opposite each other. Ospreypaw enjoys the feeling of the grit between her paw-pads; she presses her paws down into the sand and she feels stable there, thin tail twitching with her thinly-veiled excitement. No claws, no harming each other on purpose. That's easy enough; really, Ospreypaw wouldn't seek to hurt Dizzypaw, but it's no secret that she's a competitive molly. Judging from the look on her opponent's face, Dizzypaw knows this well. What's her deal? the girl wonders, citrine eyes glinting, but she won't miss her chance — when Dizzypaw looks back at her mentor, Ospreypaw strikes.

The girl darts forward, extending a forepaw in an attempt to strike the limb down on Dizzypaw's forehead. It's a bold first move, but Ospreypaw is nothing if not bold. She won't lose to a kittypet, after all.
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[DIZZYPAW]

"FATE IS A SUNDRESS" ˚୭ .ೃ⁀➷ tags ── THERE IS VERY little comfort actually captured in seeking out the reassurance of her mentor. If anything, Dizzypaw briefly feels ridiculed. This feels like a bad idea; while not by much, Dizzypaw is still younger than Ospreypaw, and a hair smaller besides. It feels a form of self-sabotage to go along with this. Dizzypaw is certain that Ospreypaw is more capable than she. Oh, to wax dramatic: why couldn't she spar with someone her own size?

And there, then, does Ospreypaw's paw come to strike across the forehead: bold indeed. Dizzypaw can very honestly say that she had not expected such a move, and yet, there they were. Sand surely leaves a paw-mark upon her brow. Dizzypaw is, frankly, embarrassed.

It is hard to will her paws to move in the manner that she needs them to, but she does muster up the courage. She has little battle practice in her regimen; her feet are uncertain and unassured. But, she still does make an attempt: gathering her senses, Dizzypaw seeks an opening for which to reach out to strike a forepaw generally along Ospreypaw's shoulder. She aims to fit the other apprentice with an apologetic look as she rushes forwards (she really isn't too sure of what she's doing!), but she's unsure of how much can be caught in this sort of motion.​

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