pafp tiny symphony -- race

REDTAIL

PRIDE AND GLORY
Mar 23, 2023
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The moors are a far cry from where she'd grown up. Looming twoleg nests replaced by open skies, her nose filled with the scents of grasslands and prey instead of food-rot and fear ... Redtail likes this so much better. And she hadn't even had to leave the members of Gin's little rogue group behind to find such a beautiful place (though, if Redtail were a lot more honest with herself, she would acknowledge that the main reason she had joined WindClan was so that she never had to relive the solitude of her youth ever again). The only issue that she'd found so far was that when it rained, there was little shelter to find ... but, alas, not everything could be perfect all of the time.

And WindClan, with their all open space and rabbit-tracked moors, provides the perfect territory for Redtail to do what she does best: run. She's not strong, nor particularly cunning in battle, but the silvery molly knows full well that she'd been one of the fastest among her little colony before Sootstar had killed Gin and brought them under her protection. Her skills were best suited to this Clan whether she liked it or not.

"Venomthroat," Redtail coos, whiskers twitching as she sidles up to her Clanmate- "would you be a dear and provide me with a racing companion? I want to beat a Clanmate to Outlook Rock, and perhaps all the way to Fourtrees if you can keep up." Odd eyes flash with curious glee, so very hoping that the shadow-wreathed runner would oblige her request. Perhaps she would strike upon true luck, and more than they would agree to race her.

// @Venomthroat.
 
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I REALLY COULDN'T CARE LESS
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venomthroat | 26 months | non-binary | they/them | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold black
A child of the marsh group through and through, Venomthroat has always been more comfortable in the dark and the undergrowth. Following tigerfrost to windclan during the split had been a change - though not the worst they have to say. They are not the most limber of cats, but they're certainly not the worst to race with. Built for short bursts of speed, not stamina and endurance with their compact muscles and streamlined figure. Dark eyes open slowly from their position sunbathing within Redtails sights, head tipping to the side for a moment as they listen. "Eh, why not," they say in a quiet rumble, standing with a groan as they arch their back with a lazy pop, limbering up their joints. "Just you and me then or-?" they question lazily, though there is a faint spark of something competetive begining to grow the more they think about it. The anticipation, the adrenaline - it's a pleasent rush.
 
❪ TAGS ❫"And me." Here comes trouble, slinking from the background like a prowling leopard with just about the smuggest grin StarClan's green earth has ever seen. Many might consider it bold for a young apprentice to want to face off against two grown warriors in any sort of endurance contest, but Snakepaw believed he had an innate advantage, specifically over the former rogue.

Lithe limbs carry the proud apprentice over toward Redtail and Venomthroat, his head held high as he proclaimed, "I was born to race the moors, unlike some." An obvious glance in the non-marsh-born's direction before he suggests, "If I win then you all have to be my personal servants for a day." What better way to humiliate a couple of grown adults for losing to an apprentice than to make them do his bidding? That image alone served as ample motivation for Snakepaw's victory.
 
Sunstride will admit without qualms that he is not among those best suited to these lands. His great paws and dense pelt were meant for long treks through the snow and burrows deep beneath the cold. He is one who had learned his way of moving on the edge of a mountain, with great falls between him and what might cushion a fall. It is most certainly not the makings of a great moor runner, yet he was a fine enough warrior nonetheless. Well enough to be a part of Sootstar's council, and to have survived their battles with relative ease. It as the nature of his existence, to fling himself into a fight and come out with unstrained victory. They could not afford their losses– nor could they afford kindness to arrogant youths who could not hold their own tongue.

What had been a faint twinkling in his eye at Redtail's challenge has sharpened to a sliver of irritation in looking at Snakepaw. Wolfsong had made it amply clear what he thought of the apprentice, and though he himself would not risk speaking so plainly against one who had such advantages over those no born to this world, he will not abide the thorns without retribution. Though his expression has returned to an easy neutrality, glittering with his amusement and hopes, he approaches the trio to prod one paw into Snakepaw's shoulder. "And should you lose? Perhaps you should act as theirs."
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  • ooc:
  • SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
    —— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
    —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
    —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.

    sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
  • "speech"
 
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I REALLY COULDN'T CARE LESS
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venomthroat | 26 months | non-binary | they/them | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold black
Dark gaze blinks slowly, staring at snakepaw the way one stares at a particularly disgusting insect underpaw. Children are always annoying - but this one seems particularly so. "Tch, why would we agree to that? Not that you would ever win, but really- an apprentice bossing around warriors," they drawl out slowly, words sharp and scornful, their rough voice ending in a scoff. Gaze turns to sunstride as the tom seems to entertain the boys offer - and their nose wrinkles in disgust. Oh well, whatever - they don't particularly care.

 
TAGS — Tigerpaw has only ever known these moors, and he's determined to be the king of them someday. Maybe he is not so explicitly determined as Snakepaw, who declares his terms with a matter-of-fact seriousness, but he is determined nonetheless. So, he approaches. His fellow apprentice's interjection into the siblings' race sounds inviting enough. "I wanna join," the young moor-runner adds, plumy tail flicking excitedly behind him. "If I win, just Snakepaw has to be my servant. Everyone else can take it easy," he decides. Amber gaze glints with challenge as he slides it towards the ebony tom.

But he soon turns his attention to the three warriors around him. He likes Redtail, he thinks; she's got a funny way of asking Venomthroat to race, and he likes her confidence. And Sunstride always has a satisfying quip, something to really put cats in their place with.... It's something he supposes he'd like to imitate, though he doesn't admit it to himself. And Venomthroat- well... they seem alright, he supposes. He'll just try to avoid too many patrols together. They seem serious, and Tigerpaw and serious generally do not jive. No matter. He's ready to win!​