private TALKING TRASH TO THE GARBAGE AROUND YOU — applepaw

[GRANITEPELT]

“Attack me.”

Granitepelt paces in a small, tight half-circle, his face carved from stone. His dreary gray pelt blends well with the moon-carved shadows in the mire, and he prowls, panther-like, waiting for the splash of cream-and-ginger to take action against him. He hasn’t done much with Applepaw in the ways of combat yet; there would be good reason for that. Pitchstar had taught him pitifully little; their first lesson had been a failure, with the rosetted tabby ordering Granitepelt to attack Starlingheart. He’d refused then.

Applepaw, though, will not refuse. He knows the determination burns as hot as ever, fire in her veins. Granitepelt knows what she wants.

He will, despite everything, do all he can to let her achieve her goal of becoming the best warrior.

The second Applepaw charges toward him, Granitepelt will take a pawful of mud and fling it in the general direction of her eyes and dart to the left, hopefully evading whatever blow she tries to land on him.

@APPLEPAW

, ”​

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Applepaw knows now, that she will seldom be spared the embarassment of doing without knowing before she is taught. A part of her thinks that should teach her not to be embarassed to begin with. Instead, she only pushes herself harder to be good the first time around.

She thinks her mentor a picturesque warrior, as he stalks. Cut in a way that screamed danger even if he did not have the most massive set of paws nor most hulking stature. Were she to encounter him on the battlefield, she would hesitate to attack; not foolish enough to not be aware of her own skill— or rather, lackthereof. Her dual - toned gaze remains on him as he prowls around her. She does not show fear. She is moons into her training, now. She should have at least something for him. She pushes it to the wayside. Her mother— everything. No excuses. No distractions. Only this.

Though she knows what's coming, she'd like to believe she could at least but up a fight, first.

Hoping to put a suddenness to her movements, Applepaw would lunge forward in as few blinks as she could manage, a paw extended—

Only to be met with a face full of mud, immediately causing her to recoil with a bitten hiss. She's embarrassed by how easily it stops her, but in all the time she's had, imagining honorable fights between warriors, she'd never thought that... something like this would be involved. " That's... " She stops to swipe a paw across her face, not sharing how personally disgusted she is just to have mud on her face. Getting used to it on her paws at any given moment was bad enough. " That's allowed? " she asks, increadelous.

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  
  

• 

• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 7 moons old as of 10.22.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Applepaw, as he’d predicted, stops in her tracks, hissing between clenched teeth. He’d startled her—he can see the disgust through the sticky mire muck smeared across her face. Granitepelt shows his teeth in a peculiar smile. “Allowed?” He lowers himself to the ground again until his belly rests against the wet grass. “You were quick, which is good, but always expect the unexpected. In a fight, that could have cost you your life.”

He abruptly rises to his paws again, this time using a clawed paw to slash loosely at Applepaw’s lower left flank. “There’s nothing that’s not allowed in a real fight,” he tells her, and if she were to meet his eyes, there would be a deadly glint among the forested shadow of his gaze. He’s remembering a cat twisting in pain, choking on their own spittle—a cat thrashing below his paws in the water—a cat falling to her death from a tree—a cat suffocating helplessly on the moss of her own sickbed.

Granitepelt says, “Use your claws. Show me how you win this fight alive.”

, ”​

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Allowed? She knows as soon as he says it back to her that it was stupid question, and her ears flatten against her skull. She isn't sure if she preferred the odd smile, or to be lambasted for her foolishness. When her face is finally mostly clear of mud, she blinks at him, expression furrowed. You were quick, which is good. A twitch of the ear; her efforts noticed. But always expect the unexpected. Her frown pushes a little bit deeper. The unexpected encompassed a lot, didn't it?

Case in point, Granitepelt is on his paws again, and Applepaw doesn't realize what's happen fast enough to avoid the slash of claws. She doesn't bleed— but she jolts back with a hiss in her throat, all the same. Her own gaze flickers to meet mossy green, frustration evident in odd eyes. There’s nothing that’s not allowed in a real fight, he said, and his gaze is swirling with tales she would never know; battles she had not been there to see. Use your claws. Show me how you win this fight alive.. Yes, were this a real battle, Applepaw does not think she would dare to cross him.

But this isn't, so she would snap from her stupor to lash out with claws unsheathed, feigning aim for his face, before she would attempt to pivot for a blow to the shoulder instead. Though, her paws feel clunky— perhaps she did not possess the agility needed for such a move, but she would try.

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  
  

• 

• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 7 moons old as of 10.22.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Applepaw takes a moment to clear the mud from her vision, her brow furrowing as she watches his stalk. She isn’t as quick, this time, when his claws slash toward her body, but he catches little but fur between them. A hiss rattles in his apprentice’s throat, and she leaps back, away from the danger. Finally, mismatched eyes widen, settle on him, and she sees he’s serious. She sees the game he’s playing. Her own claws peek from their pouches, glinting in the cold light of the moon, and Granitepelt’s smile widens with satisfaction.

She charges, her claws whistling dangerously close to his face. Too late, he realizes it’s a feint. The other paw slams into his shoulder, and he can feel each tiny prick where her claws meet his flesh. It’s a hit, which pleases him more than he’d thought it would. His apprentice is learning. “Good,” he says, his ears flattening. “The feint is a move you’ll want to keep in the back of your mind. Never let your opponent predict what you’re going to do, if you can help it.”

Granitepelt slips away from her, to her right, and flashes back toward her face in a similar manner to what she has done; if she’s distracted, he will aim a blow with his other paw to her chest. Would she predict a move she had just used herself, on him? Would she counter it sufficiently?

, ”​

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Miraculously, her hit lands. No— she reminds herself, it isn't some streak of luck. She's learning. Her eyes snap us to his, glittering in their revelation. Good, he tells her, and she finds that she feels the same way. Good. Mental notes are filed away for later, Applepaw allows herself to reply with a single still nod before she is preparing herself again. she squares her shoulders, attempting to maintain a defensive stance. Granitepelt's moves are watched with wide - eyes. He slips away, and then he's flashing toward again. Her first instinct is panic— but his advice is still fresh in her mind. A series of blinks betray her muted fear, and thoughts flash through her mind. Was he faking her out as she had just done herself? What does he expect her to do, and what should she do instead?

She wants her to keep an eye on his claws, or to shield her own face. (And was such an instinct a bad one? It threatens to shake her—the thought of losing her eye during a bout of training). The real danger is his other paw, or his teeth. Bile thick in her throat, she tries not to be distracted by the claw slashing dangerously close to her face. In a flash, she spots the other blow coming toward her—

Hastily Applepaw would pivot away from the second blow to come. Out of sheer instinct, she rears onto her hind legs, but she would attempt to take advantage of it, retaliating with leaping force in her back legs and claws aimed to grapple at her mentor,. Her size is more formidable than it had been some moons ago— if she's lucky, she may be able to take him down.

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  
  

• 

• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 8 moons old as of 11.17.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

There’s a surge of adrenaline shooting from the tips of his ears to his paws as Applepaw dodges the blow. It’s satisfying to know she’s learning from him, that she’s becoming a true warrior, molded in his image. She rears back, using the force of her evasion to come crashing down on top of him, and he looses his breath in a subtle oof. She topples him onto his back, using her size to her advantage. He breathes, staring up at her with gleaming eyes. “Very good. Your first victory, though if I were your opponent I wouldn’t lie here and let you finish me off…”

He smiles. “So now, if I were a ThunderClan warrior, a WindClan cat with your rat in his mouth—what would you do to me?” It’s a test, and he uses the opportunity to gather his strength again, to ready his back legs in a kick to dislodge her if she were to make the wrong choice.

, ”​

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

She loosens her shoulders, pride warming its way through her. She wonders how many apprentices have beaten their mentor's so soon— but of course, to an extent, she knows that he probably let her win. After all of the embarrassment— she thinks that's a treat in itself, to be allowed to win. A curt nod, at that. if I were your opponent I wouldn’t lie here and let you finish me off… Of course, a real opponent would...

Applepaw maintains her stance. Worry makes itself known in the pinning of her ears— but she refuses to look meek. Perhaps it's too much, that she relaxes. Too much, that she wonders if the spar is over, as Granitepelt asks her, what would you do to me? She pauses.

In a fight, that could have cost you your life.

But surely, no prey dispute should have to be life or death. For ShadowClan, she would secure it, because ShadowClan needed it most. WindClan's moorland queen could raid SkyClan for their kibble. ThunderClan, high and mighty as they were, could stay fat from their own prey. " I'd... I'd ensure that the rat is ShadowClan's, by the end. " Was that wrong? " I'd make sure you remember me. "

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  

• 

• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 8 moons old as of 11.17.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

​