pafp SHOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU / spar

[SNAILSTRIDE]

It was like a switch had flipped in their mentor again as if seeing the other apprentices be promoted while his own 'greatest disappointment' floundered had ignited new reasons to be bitter. Snailpaw didn't want to be exiled, they'd hunt when they could and show up to patrols if they were around, but they'd spent months putting off the one thing that WindClanners around him seemed to excel at. They'd seen countless unsheathed claws and grizzled lips when cats snarled at each other, even in the friendliest spars, there was an intensity to his group that he preferred to ignore. The tabby had gotten away with it for so long that they would've never thought that they'd be at the opposite end of such a vicious creature, but fate had dealt them a bad hand, and so, on a flat stretch of land to camp, Snailpaw stood a short distance away from one of WindClan's lead warriors. A few times already their legs had threatened to give out, the spacious moor suddenly feeling like a prison now that their antics had caught up with them. They saw no justification for Shrikewing partnering them up with a fierce cat for the afternoon, perhaps to show them that he could be worse?

Snailpaw's fullbody shuddered. They didn't know how far Weaselclaw would go in this spar, it was hard to hear him speak passed the erratic thumping in his ears. Snailpaw crouched as if hunting a rabbit, steadying themselves as best they could against the icy cold crawling across their body - they knew it was not just the weather causing such a thing. 'Get up' He heard his mentor's voice somewhere in the back of his mind. 'Get up!' There it was again, louder, angrier. They remembered that had been when unsheathed claws had wrapped around his legs and pulled upwards to try and get them to stand. They didn't know if the tabby would be any better than that, they were an enigma to Snailpaw, except for their frightening devotion to Sootstar. They wait for permission from the other before they run forwards, zigzagging and kicking up snow as they went. Snailpaw hopped to the right of the Lead Warrior and leapt, aiming to land on his back. There were no unsheathed claws trying to make gripping onto the thin pelt any easier, regardless of what the other did, Snailpaw wouldn't try to draw a clanmate's blood.

@WEASELCLAW



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[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw paces in half-circles in front of Snailpaw, his blue eyes empty and clear as the skies that stretch above them. The ground is firmer beneath white paws, the snowmelt and heather crunching under his pads. His muscles are relaxed, prepared to spring at a moment's notice, and his gaze is critically evaluating Snailpaw's every facial expression, every gesture.

Shrikewing had come to him, disappointed that Snailpaw's ceremony had been delayed yet another moon. The tabby had been suspicious of just what it was the young cat did all day -- sure, he goes out when he has to, but Snailpaw has somehow gotten off with the bare minimum for far too long.

Weaselclaw stops pacing. He sees Snailpaw drop into a hunting crouch, which makes him grimace. The blue tabby is ready, and Weaselclaw gives them a nod to announce he should charge.

Charge they do, kicking up drifts of white with their back legs. Their movement zigzags, as though trying to throw him off, but Weaselclaw can see Snailpaw's body jerking to the right of him at the last second. Weaselclaw jerks to the left, aiming to let Snailpaw land on all fours on the space the tabby had just been standing in. He would then aim to use a sheathed paw to bat at the right side of Snailpaw's face. Though there are no claws yet, if the blow would connect, it would be powerful, with no holds barred.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[SNAILSTRIDE]

Snailpaw landed squarely in the empty space, finishing their pounce as if they had caught a tiny mouse between their paws. Their memory of combat abated them most times, it was only when he started his leap did he realise that the fogginess was doubly troublesome in the heat of the moment. The spars he attended as a younger child felt like the rehearsal for some grand old dance. It never prepared him for this chaos, perhaps it would've if they'd attended training more frequently, but Snailpaw didn't know how that would help boost their assurance. Panic flashed in their sapphire eyes as they spun to face Weaselclaw, met not with the stalwart face of a lead warrior, but instead, his burly paw. They didn't have a chance to react before a sharp pain erupted in the right side of their face, the tabby fighting to regain his balance on that side as the force of the smack threatened to send him flying. 'I can't do this I can't do this what am I doing-' The onset of repetitive thoughts caused them to look nauseous as they whipped their head back around, lashing a paw out likely to deliver a similar blow.

But, he never got the chance. Whether the bat was the tipping point in the tabby's frantic emotions or was just poorly timed didn't matter. They fell forwards with their outstretched paw, colliding unceremoniously with the soft earth. The muscles around their eyes twitched before falling still as the rest of them, save for their rising and falling flank, moving at a pace far less anxious than before. In the middle of the spar meant to prove themselves to their mentor, the marbled tabby had fell into a sleep at the first hurdle.


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[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

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WindClan had certainly been active in the sparring department, as of late. Tigerfrost is rolling and stretching his sore shoulder as he observes the little battle between lead warrior and apprentice. Of course, the chimera has plenty of respect for Weaselclaw, but Snailpaw? He doesn't think the novice will last very long. Snailpaw was... different. Anyone could see it. But Tigerfrost certainly doesn't expect to watch them pass out in the first few seconds of the fight. He blinks, uncertain of just what he had witnessed. Had Weaselclaw struck him too hard? Just how frail was this apprentice? He's at a loss for words, trying to put together what he had observed between the two. Walking closer, Tigerfrost sniffs at the younger cat curiously, prodding lightly at his shoulder to see if it would rouse them from... whatever this was.

"Did he pass out?" He asks aloud, as if Weaselclaw would know.​

 

[Clambite]

Clambite had been watching from afar, the spar happening. Shrikewing did this on purpose. Putting her brother up against Weaselclaw, a lead warriors, was no mistake. Did he want him to die? Did he want to hurt him without doing it himself?

That must be it, she figured. He was a bit of an ass.

No sooner did the fight start did it finish, and seeing Weaselclaw smack her brother down made her want to smack him as a reflex. But when Snailpaw didn't get up.....

She bolted over.

"S-snailpaw...!?"

She trembled. She fought back the impulse to lash out at Weaselclaw, at Shrikewing, for hurting her brother. But it wasn't like it was on purpose.....Right? Weaselclaw wouldn't knock him out or kill him on purpose, right?

She stepped closer to him, worried she would find a pool of blood under his head. She gently placed a paw on his shoulder and shook him.



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[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"YOU'RE NOT A PART TIME GOD"​

Fights always interested him. It was why within such a short amount of time, he'd offered himself to two spars, the darker grey fur on his chest stained with crimson from the spar with Tigerfrost, irritated skin flashing from thinner parts where it'd been torn at the worst of his trophies from those two spars and he watched with interest, paws muddied from a recent hunting attempt. He'd made it back just in the nick of time, seating himself to watch where he could silently observe, stumpy tail tucked against his rump. Houndthistle knew better than to bet on Snailpaw, even silently, though he couldn't resist idle hope the apprentice would prove them all wrong, that even if he didn't win he'd show some sort of promise during this. But, alas, as Weaselclaw's paw met with the other's head, sending them wobbling and reeling, it seemed whatever switch was in the kid's head had been flipped and they planted mid-retaliation into seemingly death. Alarm flicked across Houndthistle's face, muscles twitching subtly under his coat the moment Snailpaw's body made contact with the ground, urged on to go and grab the younger tom away from the humiliation he may have just suffered, but he relented.
This was how he had learned.

Rising from where he sat, he lumbered over to stand by Tigerfrost, looking down at marbled tabby. "Welp, I reckon that just about does it," He said plainly, leaning farther down to give the other a sniff to ensure he actually was alive at least, "'least he's breathin'. Might have some... head sickness or somethin'... a friend of mine knew someone who'd do this sorta thing." He stood back up, glancing at Weaselclaw then at Clambite, waiting for everyone to figure out what to do with the comatose apprentice in the middle of camp.
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Sedgerunner]

"BUT I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR"​

More chaos ensued hust outside of camp, right where Sedgerunner had just endured her own training expedition. Houndthistle had naturally came on top, won without much trying, but she did her best—which wasn't that great after all. Her own shoulders stung as the wind chill settled itself along her shallow wounds, breathing it's frigid breath on her reward for her novice combat training. She moves into the fray just as it began, watching Snailpaw launch themselves at Weaselclaw and missing near immediately. Weaselclaw had seasons of battle experience on the young apprentice, his body whirled and moved like the wind itself and landing a hard blow to Snailpaw's head. It was—awe-inspiring really, watching him be so quick-witted with precision strikes. A small sigh passes over her tongue, wandering if she'd ever be up to par with the other warriors in the clan.
Snailpaw drops to the ground immediately and her virdian eyes widen in shock, her maw slacked open in a gasp as the tabby dropped into a crumbled heap. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of their smaller body, she'd have thought the apprentice was dead. Empathy washes over her immediately at the younger feline, relating a little too much for what they went through. Snailpaw didn't like to fight—avoided confrontation but yet, their stone-hearted mentor set them up for failure before they were given a chance. She moves to stand beside Houndthistle, her eyes settling on him as he spoke. "Head sickness?" The moor runner echoed, cocking her head slightly. Snailpaw seemed fine, but who knew—illness came in different forms—maybe this was one of them. Or they just passed out from the sheer force from Weaselclaw. Or fear. Or both—poor Snailpaw. She moves closer to the tabby, gently resting a chocolate paw along their flank before giving it a gentle shake. "Snailpaw, dear?"
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw's forepaw hits its mark, right on the side of Snailpaw's head. It's a clean hit, and he's pleased with himself for the quick movement.

Or he would be, if the apprentice didn't absolutely crumble at the contact. Weaselclaw stares dismally as Snailpaw drops to the ground after the blow connects, facial muscles twitching spasmodically. At first, the tabby worries he's somehow killed the apprentice, but blue eyes travel to the rise and fall of their flank.

"What in the name of StarClan?" Bewilderment creeps over his face. Tigerfrost asks if Snailpaw had passed out, and Weaselclaw gives him a helpless shrug. "I-- I didn't hold back, but surely he didn't pass out just from that? My claws were sheathed." He's absolutely baffled, and his Clanmates seem to be too.

Clambite, Snailpaw's kin, runs to the apprentice in a flurry. Weaselclaw fights his irritation, but he knows it's coming from a sister's place rather than a fellow Clanmates. He assures her, "He's alive, just... something happened." He blinks rapidly, still processing the shortest spar he's ever engaged in.

Houndthistle says something about a head sickness, and Weaselclaw stiffens as Sedgerunner echoes his statement and draws close to the knocked-out tabby. "You think it's contagious?" He takes a cautious step backward. He doesn't want it, whatever... "it" is. "I'll get..." He falters. Who should he get? Vulturemask knows very little about healing right now... perhaps Dandelionwish might be better? Even as a prisoner, the sepia point has at least what minimal knowledge Honeytwist had passed on.

@Dandelionwish @VULTUREMASK​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[SNAILSTRIDE]

They woke up with a jolt, feeling soft paws prod and shake them as if they were some sort of unidentified twoleg object. A sluggish pupil darted to the side to see who had woke him, recognising Clambite and Sedgerunner and lending them a slight smile. It took a few seconds to remember what had happened. Negative emotions reset and worries averted until they saw the lead warrior backing away, it didn't take long for Snailpaw to recall that they'd been set up to spar with Weaselclaw under the guise of it being 'punishment' for slacking on training. Quiet words pass among the crowd: head sickness... head sickness... head sickness... and all those thoughts they'd been happy to be rid of came back. They weren't sick! Constantly tired maybe, enough to pass out where they stood if they were overwhelmed positively or otherwise, but that wasn't a sickness... was it? It was just who they were, a trait like their clanmate Coalfoot had. A memory flashes before their eyes of them in the nursery, waking up from a similar spell with their mother telling them to 'hush' and to not bother the others with it. Weaselclaw suggests getting someone, and Snailpaw realises they wouldn't know how to deal with that.

It was better to not show up than to disappoint, a motto the marbled tabby had lived by since the very first day their mentor had scorned them. Their attendance at the spar was a sad one, wrought by hurdles they'd never needed to know how to cross before. Being doted on felt like thorns had stabbed their pelt, and Snailpaw's breathing grew quicker at the prospect of the medicine cats finally checking them out. If they were going to waste Vulturemask or Dandelionwish's time, it'd be for a good reason, not for some sickness that they wouldn't be able to cure anyways. An incredulous chuckle escaped the apprentice - Stars, were they really gonna do this? It would be up there with one of their worst ideas... and they'd had plenty of bad ideas. They gently shook out their fur as if trying to prompt Sedgerunner and Clambite to give them space to stand. "This spar's not over yet, gramps!" Snailpaw scrambled to their feet with ease, aiming to sucker punch Weaselclaw's lower jaw. It would be harder than his last attack, more deliberate - from the apprentice's perspective, their potential swansong.

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[Firefang]

Firepaw wouldn't miss this, after all seeing Snailpaw do much of anything especially fight was a rarity. She couldn't say exactly she was rooting for them though, no she knew better he was gonna get his ass kicked and she hoped it'd be a wake up call for him to get himself together and to actually try instead of wasting his time picking daisies or whatever it is that silver furred mousebrain did. She knew they weren't built for fighting, that they weren't much of a clan cat at all regardless of the wild blood in their veins it's something they freely admit and something she wishes they knew to keep their maw shut about. After all she can't see them surviving on their own not when the sight of blood itself shook them to their core. Yet she's still just as shocked as the rest of her clanmates when he falls to the ground after a single hit eyes shutting as if he'd been killed in battle, Weaseclaw hadn't even hit him that hard his claws were sheathed. What had happened. Concern is evident on her face as much as she'd wish to bury it, eyes wide with fright; what in Starclan's name happened. Were they okay? Were they dying?

She remembers how still Sunsetbreeze had been, flanks forever still body limp and splayed on the ground his spirit no longer resting within the carcass that'd been the great warrior in life. Snailpaw breathes however but the image doesn't leave her head, it's a horrific image they blend together like a horrific amalgamation of nightmare and reality. She almost bolts to them but her paws won't will her to move, they quiver beneath her unwilling to part with the ground she sits upon. She watches her clanmates nudge them, listens to the concerned meow of their sister. Would they move them to the medicine den? Were they just gonna wait and see if his body fell still?

No, because they wouldn't need to and she can't stifle the groan she lets out as they get to their paws like nothing happened and have the gall to strike once again at Weaselclaw as if the fight wasn't already over and done with. If Weaselclaw didn't beat their ass for that stunt she was gonna do it herself how dare they scare her of all cats! ​

( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )