camp This world is not meant for you (Spar)

Tigerfrost was dead and buried, and Badgermoon had hardly felt a moment's peace since the chimera had been taken from them. Perhaps it was the fact that they had expected retaliation for the attack on RiverClan or the affair with Smogmaw and had thus been in a battle-ready state for several long moons, or perhaps it was distress over matters in his personal life, or just the sorrow and anger over what the rogues had done to his Clanmate - but for whichever reason or combination of reasons, the moor-runner's paws felt afire with restlessness. The violent, foul thing which lived deep in his gut and demanded to be released at the slightest provocation was climbing steadily closer to the surface, and his usual techniques to stop it were falling short. He needed to do something, and seeing as no enemy warriors were available for him to shred, he had asked one of his largest and most sturdy Clanmates to spar with him: Houndthistle. Badgermoon liked the grayish tomcat, and felt that he could readily withstand a spar that might end up being a fair sight rougher than the average tussle. "Your move first." he offered, flicking his yellow eyes over his opponent. His expression was somehow glazed and focused simultaneously, as if he were descending into someplace in his mind where nothing existed but the cat before him and his own body.


[ this takes place after tigerfrost's vigil/burial! @HOUNDTHISTLE - but no need to wait <3 ]
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"
Like many of the clan, Houndthistle wasn't taking Tigerfrost's death easy. His sparring buddy, the brute grieved silently and alone, but when asked to spar, he didn't deny it. Similar to Badgermoon, Houndthistle's body ached for action though his personal outlook on vengeance made it bittersweet and something he took more out on prey-many of his rabbits having been returned with snapped neck and crushed bones from his frustrations-or training. This was better than sitting there, mind-numbingly staring at a bush as his claws ripped and tore at it, Houndthistle's towering body across from the deputy's as his amber eyes were wide and zeroed in on the bicolor like an emotionless owl. His torn ears flicked as he was prompted to start, taking a second to stretch and unsheathe his claws as he dragged his tongue over his large canines.

With no warning, the brute lurched forward, large paws thundering across the ground as he charged at Badgermoon, head lowered as he aimed to ram his large head square in the other's chest with all his momentum and knock him back a good bit if not completely off his paws. He was only opening the spar, nothing fancy, so he figured throwing his weight around wouldn't hurt.

//for reference, hound did score a 20 in his rolling 😬 im rolling to see how extreme he gets aha
✦ ★ ✦
 
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The orange-eyed tom wasted no time in charging forward, and Badgermoon realized almost at once that he had no time to dodge. In spite of his size, Houndthistle was quick on his paws, and the black-and-white tom resolutely braced himself for impact, grinding his claws into the dirt as the warrior's broad head collided with his chest. The deputy managed to keep his footing, though he slid a few tail-lengths, an airless hiss escaping him as not-entirely-unwelcome pain spiked up towards his jaw. He's enormous. thought the moor-runner with a ripple of satisfaction. WindClan's warriors are the finest of all the Clans. With a grunt of effort, Badgermoon coiled his hind legs beneath him and lunged forward, attempting to land one-two-three quick, heavy blows on Houndthistle's head, targeting mostly his ruff and space near his ears. After all, the goal wasn't to actually hurt his Clanmate, only to burn off some excess energy, and even the ferocity deep inside him knew that. Right? Right?
 
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Completely unenthused, the sooty feline dragged himself over all the same, if not to see Badgermoon, then to take his mind off of the days prior. Sleepy eyes revealed bloodshot whites whenever they widened enough. The stars hadn't changed the past few nights, he'd tried his best to keep track of where they all sat, and through his fatigue, he was sure that he hadn't seen Tigerfrost's. The thought was... harrowing. Slightly less harrowing but still a possibility was the idea that Houndthistle and Badgermoon mark the campgrounds a familiar crimson, curled upon the outskirts of the makeshift sparring grounds, the muscles in Snailstride's neck were tight in case they needed to look away quickly. Their fur was beginning to form knots at its base that threatened to snag at his tail as he lay it beside them. Without so much of an inch of gusto, the frowning feline watched as the spar began, expression muted as Houndthistle moved with such a speed that'd usually startle him. Still, he could not help but ponder the pointlessness of it all if even the toughest fighter he knew could crumple like grass. Snailstride did his best to lift his head, hoping to give the impression he was paying attention.

 
Life doesn't discriminate
Tigerfrost's death weighed heavily upon his mind. It made him want to up his training and he was sure Sunstride would become annoyed soon enough with how often he pushed for more teachings. But he didn't want to be caught off guard like the former lead warrior, leaving way before his time. Adderpaw's tongue rasps over ivory fangs as he settles down to watch the spar between Badgermoon and Houndthistle commence. Amber eyes study the tom's movements, learning by watching to give his poor mentor a break for now. To his surprise Houndthistle performed a move Harrierpaw used on him during their own spar. However, unlike Badgermoon the way he retaliated against his brother did not mirror the black and white deputy. "Interesting." He mumbles under his breath, tail lashing against the ground below. What would Houndthistle do next.
Between the sinners and the saints
 

" I bet two feathers on that Badgermoon will win." the medicine cat decided to make something fun out of this to kill some of the boredom and make this more interesting. Beside they would love to watch Houndthistle get their face brought into the dirt. Their nasty comments to them back then had not been forgotten or forgiven. Vulturemask was good to keep grudges that was for sure. Deciding to take a seat the ebony tom would drop down beside Snailstride and gave them a silent greeting. Tigerfrost death must have struck them badly. He too felt their death but like always he was comforting himself with the knowledge that he would meet them again one day in the stars. So no need wasting tears for someone they where going to meet again someday. This was not a goodbye. If anything they should feel jealous over that Tigerfrost had got released from this hellish life before they had.

Taking a quick look around Vulturemask wanted to see if sombody else was gonna join into his bet. He wonderd if anyone was gonna bet against their deputy though. Hopefully someone was going to entertain him. It would make it even more worthwhile when Houndthistle lost...and if not. Hmh. Badgermoon better not and make a fool out of them. He would never forgive them for that.



 


The sound of scuffling cats finally pull Mallowpaw away from her elder den duties and to the makeshift arena, just barely catching Houndthistles attack and Badgermoons retaliation. She was itching to watch a proper fight, though if she were being honest with herself she was itching for anything to wash out the grief and sadness that plagued Windclan. It was hard to ignore how much Tigerfrost's demise impacted them, he was a lead warrior after all and his death certainly came as a shock. Mallowpaw just wished for some normalcy back in her life, back in Windclan. Maybe then they could start to move on and train harder to prevent another avoidable death.

Mallowpaw steals a spot next to Adderpaw, casting a fore longing glance at her fellow apprentice before once again turning back to the fight. She wasnt sure who would win out of the two, they both were skilled warriors who seemed to be one another's match. Vulturemasks bet however made her think otherwise. She doesnt acknowledge the medicine cat at first, her focus was drawn to the ongoing fight, but after a few beats of silence she murmurs "I'll bet you three that he won't". Sorry Badgermoon, she's rooting for you on the inside.

"speech"
 
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The loss of her fellow lead warrior has certainly taken a toll on Scorchstreak. She hadn’t shed a tear for her son, hadn’t grieved for the fool—but now, it seems she can hardly stop crying. She blames the pregnancy, though she understands that this is what true, soul-crushing grief feels like. Her closest friend—gone, and she hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell him goodbye. Tigerfrost will rest now, forever, only within memories. He will never meet her kits, and that thought strikes Scorchstreak much harder than it should.

Still, the calico watches as Badgermoon, the clan’s deputy, the father of her litter, challenges an equally powerful tom to a fight. The two broad, bulky cats clash and she settles onto her haunches to observe their sparring. Beside her, Mallowpaw and Vulturemask are making bets, and her tail lashes. "He’ll win," she mutters, gritting her teeth as she watches the two toms batter each other. They won’t seriously injure one another, she hopes; she does not want to lose another clanmate so soon after Tigerfrost.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"
He feels the brunt of impact as his head and shoulders land squarely on the deputy, shoving him backwards a good amount, satisfied with how well this seemed to possibly be going as he heard the breath be knocked out of his fellow behemoth. In retaliation, he tries to surge up but claws dig deep through his thick mane, slashing at the back of his neck and by his ears, making him have to quickly change his course of action as he felt that sting through his scarred, thick flesh, teeth baring in concentration. His amber eyes glow with that familiar heat, muscles rippling under his large form, as he heard the onlookers take bets on who would win, their watchful eyes only seeming to light that fire more in his chest. With a loud growl deep in his chest, Houndthistle lunges further under the deputy to try and grasp one of his hind-legs, hoping to take him by surprise and knock him off his paws. If successful in latching onto the deputy's leg, he'd attempt to throw him off to the side, flinging him with his strength.

//rolled a 3 on avoiding getting hit and a 17 for his attack
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❪ TAGS ❫ — What was this? A spar between Badgermoon and Houndthistle? Snakepaw was intrigued, to say the least. He doesn't get the opportunity to actually witness his mentor sparring; demonstrating battle moves, yes, but not as if he were in a real fight.

The dark apprentice takes a seat and watches the mock battle closely. "Get 'im, Badgermoon!" He nearly made a comment about Badgermoon clawing Houndthistle's face so hard and making his mug look uglier than it already was, but that would be impossible. Snakepaw wouldn't mind donning a few scars of his own, as they were considered trophies from glorious battles past, but he'd hate for his features to look torn-up like that big brute's.
 
Badgermoon was blind and deaf to the audience which had formed around he and Houndstride's spar. The speculation and discussion, the curious eyes - all of it faded away. That should have been his first warning: his awareness of his surroundings only slipped away from him when the haze of battle had descended. His second warning should have been the visceral noise of ragged glee and pain which escaped him as Houndthistle's lunge found its mark and teeth sank into his leg. Only in the depths of his anger did he make such noises, but by then he was too far gone to register the warning signs. The bicolor tom's body hit the ground with an uncomfortable thud as Houndthistle successfully threw him, and he let out a yowl of furious excitement, pulling his powerful hind legs in and coiling them, claws sheathed: with an explosive burst forward, he kicked outwards and up, aiming for the grayish warrior's jaw.
 
( ) The rumble and tumble sound of bodies clashing and slamming onto the grass, followed by cheers draw the attention of the young warrior. Cloudedsky glides over, tail held high towards the direction of the commotion. Brows arch in surprise to see Badgermoon tusseling with the biggest tom that WindClan had, Houndthistle. His very name proved his massive size, larger than most cats she's seen. Badgermoon was also large, but despite the sheer size difference between them—Badgermoon seemed to be holding himself well. The tunneler takes a seat beside Snakepaw, casting him a wary glance as he shouted for his mentor to win. She says nothing encouraging, just a spectator along amidst tje sidelines. A glow resided within her molten gaze though, a certain thrill that caused her heart to jump into an excited gallop. She loved watching spars, observing different fighting styles and the sheer all that her clan mates put into it. It was no wonder WindClan was feared amongst the other clans. Their warriors were as fierce as gladiators
( You should see me in a crown ; I'm gonna run this nothing town )
 

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

C_Angelkisses.gif
The sound that leaves Badgermoon only makes Houndthistle pause a moment, hesitance in his gaze as muscles tremble under his pelt, eyes focused on the bicolor as he looks at the situation. But when he sees those hindlegs coil, power building in their muscles, that single second of resistance is dashed and Houndthistle's chin jerks upward reflexively, the air whooshing as it stirs his mane, leaving his chin unmarred for just a moment. With little time to think, Houndthistle decides to remain the aggressor, head weaving as he lifts his large body like a dancer's, building momentum as his amber eyes glare down to meet Badgermoon's.

It's like a lion moving in to kill, Houndthistle's large form bristled from excitement and adrenaline, eyes wild with the surge of excitement that Badgermoon put into the spar, Houndthistle seemed more than just focused. With his movement fluid, the large grey tom moves his body in an attempt to pin the deputy beneath his form, lunging forward with open maw to land a mock bite to Badgermoon's chest, only holding his strength back enough to not cause serious damage.


"speech"

  • 18 to avoid kick, 14 for attack
  • Physical Health
    100%
    ⤷ no current wounds
    Mental Health
    98%

  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

 
Littlekit heard a ruckus that was not caused by him or any of his siblings, and so, he bumbled out of the nursery to investigate. What he saw was the stuff of LEGENDS. An epic battle between two of the coolest warriors in the clan. Badgermoon was cool because he was the deputy, and Houndthistle was cool because he was BIG AND STRONG. To the others, this was a simple spar. To Littlekit, this was a BATTLE BETWEEN LIONS.

He watched them fight with wide eyes. Did his dad fight like that too? Could he fight like that??? He wanted to. He wanted to be COOL.

"YEAH!! GETTEM!!" Cracked voice shouted for no one in particular. He was so excited he was bouncing in place.​