camp SCARECROW, HOW DO YOU KNOW | sparring / intro

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Newleaf crests over the moors like a breath of fresh air; the sun and the breeze lifts his spirits, even when everything else seems to have become infected with a dull monotony, lately. Conflict, disagreements, chores. Sedgepaw has managed to skirt around his task of cleaning out the apprentice den this morning, but afternoon is quickly approaching and he is growing terribly bored. Cats mull around camp with listless, blank expressions and Sedgepaw lingers among them, restlessness swarming through his chest like a cloud of wasps over their kicked-over nest. At once, Sedgepaw makes a big show of sighing loudly enough to be heard from all corners of the fields. Then he sweeps himself up and pounces in the direction of the nearest apprentice.

"Hey!" he greets brightly, grinning and tail waving in one wide arc. "Let's spar! I'm way tired of just standin' around here."​

 

[Petalpaw ★]

Petalpaw had been leaving the tunnels to go and find himself something to eat when the whirlwind of fur and energy danced before him with a playfully arched back and raised tail. Spar? Him? The lilac tom glanced behind himself as though unsure if it was he being addressed, but finding no one he turned around to once again face Sedgepaw with his head tilted to the side. Combat was not something Lambcurl had taught him yet, he wasn't even sure if he'd ever really see combat given he spent most his time underground and his filthy and unkempt pelt really showed as much. The tabby tom's tail flicked as he considered, a paw raised to his chest as though confirming it was him that Sedgepaw was speaking to before deciding that it never hurt to learn new things and wriggling in place until he had properly mimicked the others crouch. He'd never sparred before, but this was an older apprentice so surely they knew how to handle themselves and wouldn't batter him around too badly. Fighting was a big deal in WindClan and he had to learn eventually.
Right?
Petalpaw shifted his paws, trying to figure out his own balance before his ears went up and he sprang forward in a very poor attempt to throw himself onto the other directly, face first and without a lot of grace to be had.
​

 

[Bluepool]

Bluepool is more than ecstatic that the youth of the clan seemed to be taking their training seriously. There had been a lot of spars lately, the playful wrestling of kits. It is her hope that the next generation would be brawlers, strong warriors that would keep their clan safe. "Loser has to eat a worm!" she calls out with a loud laugh as she takes a seat nearby, what's left of her tail waving in the air until she takes her seat and then it curls the best it can around her body. When she had been their age, it had been her father and other cats who had taught her how to hunt, how to fight. For not the first time, she reflects on how lucky these younger cats were to have mentors, a cat dedicated to teaching only them. She is interested to see how these two fight though, what they have learned so far. It would be a good way for her to learn herself too. She would never miss an opportunity to learn another's fighting style.

​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Petalpaw takes up his demand with no complaint—not that he'd say as much, anyway—and Sedgepaw laughs gleefully as he easily hops to avoid his clumsy lunge. The other tom's just a tiny wisp of a thing; barely out of kithood and stumbling over his paws like they're too big for his body. Training to be a tunneler, yet youthfully inexperienced regardless. Sedge breezily floats around him, dodging amateur leaps, and aims a few swats at Petalpaw's ears and flank easily and without malice. The rule in WindClan is that all sparring must include claws, but Petalpaw's so tiny. Not exactly a challenge. So it's very clandestine that Sedgepaw's claws dig into the grass as he flits circles around the other apprentice, yet disappear into the soft fluff of his paws with every swipe in Petalpaw's direction.

"A worm?" he echoes, laughing from the belly. No way Bluepool would actually enforce that rule—still, Sedgepaw sticks out his tongue and tries to lightly push Petalpaw over, nonetheless amused. "Now that's messed up. C'mon, Petal, use your claws more." Returning to a playful crouch, Sedgepaw awaits the next round of attacks.​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He is glad that RiverClan has yet to enact their vowed revenge. If they are wise, they are merely recovering their strength before entering battle, and perhaps Wolfsong should find the quiet worrying, but he views it instead as an opportunity. WindClan has many apprentices who will be called to fight when the time comes, and they cannot afford to be found lacking in skill. Sunflowerpaw will soon be introduced to offensive training, and he imagines it will not be long before he sees them facing a fellow apprentice for practice.

"Terrorizing the apprentices, are we?" He asks Bluepool, a glint in his eye as he looks over Sedgepaw and Petalpaw. The latter's attack is rather...clumsy, but he is still young. He might learn something from his older counterpart, though it's clear Sedgepaw himself is approaching this playfully. "We might rethink the worm— we don't want our dear neighbors to starve."
​

 

[Badgermoon]

"Stealing food straight out of Lambcurl's mouth, are we, Bluepool? Tsk, I expected better from you!" Badgermoon's voice was light and teasing as he appeared beside Wolfsong, attempting to flick his tail against the golden tom's side in greeting. A small grin played at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "We all know he has a...fondness, let us say." or he hoped they knew. Surely he couldn't be the only cat who remembered those wide, wet eyes staring up as the white warrior slurped the wriggling bodies one by one...he flicked one white-tipped ear, as if to dismiss the image, before seating himself and focusing on the spar. Speaking of Lambcurl, it would be interesting to see how the strange tomcat's apprentice fared - thus far, it seemed Sedgepaw was more than capable of defeating the younger boy. He curled his tail around his speckled forepaws and wondered absently where Snakepaw was - perhaps it would be good to put him to the test against one of his peers.​

 

[Petalpaw ★]

The silent apprentice gave a briefly flail as he was promptly rolled, pelt ruffling and flaring out as he shook only to find his ear cuffed as though kissed by a gentle breeze rather than torn by claws like he expected. Sedgepaw was being kind in his theatrics, encouraging even, and the lilac tom flexed his toes against the ground to unsheath his claws uncertaintly as he tumbled back upright. WindClanners trained with claws out but he didn't often use his for much other than helping dig, a quick glance to make sure he had cleaned them beforehand (not wanting to scratch the other and leave a dirty wound-if he even managed that) before the miniscule apprentice darted forward as fast as he could to try and latch himself onto Sedgepaw's side where he would not be so easily removed at such an angle; his earlier misgivings about accidentally hurting the other vanished as he tried to dig his claws into what bit of fur and flesh he could find to hold himself in place-it was unlikely he'd do much more than rip tufts of the other's pelt given the clear difference in their skills but he was going to try anyways!
They had an audience now and he heard the whispers of a threat made to eat worms and inwardly grimaced at the mere thought of it. His mentor would encourage it, what Lambcurl saw in the horrid, wriggling things was beyond his understanding and he didn't want to try one anytime soon!
​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

❪ TAGS ❫ — That voice. Urgh, Snakepaw couldn't stand it. It usually meant trouble, like getting pestered or goofing off to some degree. He had grown up alongside the taupe-spotted tabby and, to this day, the green-eyed tom still doesn't appreciate Sedgepaw's careless tendencies. However, Snakepaw would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't interested in spectating a spar. Was Sedgepaw actually any good at fighting?

Taking a seat next to his mentor, straightening his spine so that he appeared nice and tall, Snakepaw snorts, "Maybe we'll finally see if Petalpaw does make any noise, after all." Not that he was necessarily rooting for Sedgepaw in this case, either. The amber-eyed tom wasn't his favorite, with his rowdiness and tendency to push others' buttons, so Snakepaw wouldn't mind seeing him get whacked in the face either. It seemed that Petalpaw had heeded Sedgepaw's encouragements and was now attempting to dig their claws into Sedgepaw's flank. Would he draw blood?​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

A crowd has gathered around their little sparring session, and Sedgepaw preens at all the attention—though the warriors primarily busy themselves with commenting on Lambcurl's odd taste for grub, which...is a bit of a wonder, isn't it? Still, Sedgepaw grins as he continues to rebuff Petalpaw's attempted attacks, eager to just be a part of the crowd. He's not the brawniest fighter, but he has a size advantage over Petalpaw. He would be easy to pin. But Sedge continues to dodge and sprinkle in light whacks with his claw-sheathed paws for the time being. It's a game, more than a real spar.

Yet for all his enthusiasm about combat, Sedgepaw is still, at his core, somewhat distractible. So when Snakepaw shows his smug face on the sidelines, Sedge can't help but to rib him. "Why?" he calls, turning to grin at Snakepaw. "'Cause you think Petalpaw'll finally take a laugh at your ugly mug?" The momentary glance is long enough to distract him—and with surprising agility, Petalpaw leaps and latches himself on Sedgepaw's side.

Sedgepaw jolts. "Ow!" he hisses, surprised, and instinctively attempts to fling Petalpaw to the ground with a good amount of force.

But once the shock of the moment fades away, Sedgepaw is once again rooted in reality and—whether he disengaged with force or by choice—is left staring at Petalpaw with a strange feeling of guilt crawling up his throat for having treated him so roughly.

So Sedgepaw does what any sensible cat would do. He yowls. "Gah! Nooooo! How could this have happened? Bested in my own home—ack!—by my own clanmate." Dramatically, Sedgepaw presses a paw to his chest like a shocked woman clutching her pearls, and crumples to the floor. The wound on his side doesn't hurt so much now that a moment's passed. It's probably not a wound at all; just a scratch and a tuft of lost fur. "I don't—ooough—think I'll make it. Tell Snakepaw that he's—blegh—annoying. Goodbyeee..."

With that, Sedge closes his eyes, splayed theatrically in the grass. After a moment of playing dead, though, he seems to think better of it, and peeks open an eye to cautiously add, "'M not actually gonna eat a worm though."​

 

[Petalpaw ★]

Snakepaw proved to be more useful than not, even if his comment was meant to be mocking. It was ignored all the same and the distraction gave him a small opening to actually get close enough to stick a claw in the other tom instead of getting his head bapped repeatedly.
Petalpaw finds himself flipped unceremoniously onto his back, toppling head over paw onto the ground and though the initial impact hurt for a moment he finds it more exhilarating than anything else; was this how combat felt? He knew Sedgepaw was regarding him carefully but all the same he had managed to surprise the older apprentice with his efforts and that alone was worth celebrating even if the theatrics were a bit much. The lilac tabby smiled, finding he rather liked Sedgepaw's goofy demeanor and efforts he'd taken to not be too rough on a cat he knew he outclassed by far. It wasn't traits he saw often in WindClan and he wriggled in place in enthusiasm; his own little way of laughing without making a sound.
With a slow turn he sticks his tongue out in Snakepaw's direction, a gesture he is sure the other apprentice can fully understand without the need for him to explain it.
​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​

When he isn't sparring, he seems to be like a moth to flame to other's, eventually lumbering over with curious eyes as this one seemed to be tying up. He sat next to Bluepool and Badgermoon, a flick of an ear in greeting as he watched the two apprentices play essentially. "Lambcurl is one of 'em more... funny cats, huh?" Houndthistle muses to the other warriors, a smile threatening the edge of his lips as he remembered Lambcurl and him staring at a particularly interesting bug. That day was particularly interesting, in one way or another, but Houndthistle hadn't gone out of his way to interact with the tunneler recently. Perhaps he should see what the other is up to, catch up a bit.

"Ya should aim fer his legs, Petalpaw. Yer smaller, use it to get close," Houndthistle suggests to the other as he turns to stick his tongue out at Snakepaw, giving a flick of his ears. This made him want to do some more training with Mirepaw, show the apprentice more intensive battle-tactics to ensure the spindly tom could handle himself no matter his opponent. Perhaps he should see if one of the Tunneler apprentices would be willing to spar with him...​

✦ ★ ✦​