pafp to the death - open

Please wait for Scorch to post first! //

Milkpaw was always absolutely bored. After the who knows how many attempts at failing to hunt and begging his mentor to teach the small frosted apprentice to fight, he would come into camp huffing and kicking rocks. She was not a good mentor, gravelling on day after day, and just being unenthused about everything.

Maybe, he just needed to teach himself to fight. His crystal blue eyes landed on a thin calico, and Milkpaw grinned. Smaller meant easier to beat right? So he would duck down, make a low clicking noise, and pull himself closer to the warrior.

Quiet like the snow.

Before leaping he would shout, "SNEAK ATTACK," and aim to land all four paws with sheathed claws, on the still much bigger warrior, if successful, would try to bite into her scruff.

He would beat scorch, he could beat all of them if he tried his best. And maybe they will be so impressed that they'll make him an early warrior and he could rub it in his sister's face!!
 
The tunneler is busying herself with a few bundles of moss, so enraptured with her task that she is paying little attention to her surroundings. It is a mistake, she understands, to let her guard down even within WindClan’s camp—but Scorchstreak has had larger issues on her mind as of late. And it is a mistake. A weight slams onto her back, soft paws landing upon calico fur, and blazing gold eyes fly wide in alarm.

"What-" her words are cut off as she twists, attempting to throw the smaller feline off of her back. Any panic that she feels is quickly abated, however, when she recognizes the apprentice who’s got her scruff clutched in their teeth. Milkpaw. "Hey, knock it off!" The calico shouts, but her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter as she attempts to twist her body enough to cuff the apprentice over the head. She isn’t truly angry—more mildly annoyed than anything. But the boy shows drive, eagerness to improve, and she is glad to see it. If only he hadn’t given away his attack by announcing it beforehand.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
A flailing throws his loose grip off of the feline as she turns around and cuffs him over his ears.

Hey, knock it off!

Milkpaw let's out a screech laughter, before diving back towards her and attempting to jab at her chest and shoulders, before quickly trying to jump out of range. "Your enemies wouldn't knock it off if they randomly attacked!" he exclaimed, sticking his tongue out in a mocking way. "You gotta try better than that to beat the toughest warrior of all time!"
 
❪ TAGS ❫ — The sudden commotion certainly draws Snakepaw's attention. He pricks his ears and swivels his emerald gaze in the direction of Scorchstreak who was now struggling to buck an unknown assailant off. He then sees a glimpse of an all too familiar eyesore, Milkpaw. The younger child was more of a nuisance than anything, nobody that really posed a threat to Snakepaw's status, but StarClan was he proving to be awfully bothersome. He should have been kept in the nursery.

Snakepaw snorts as he watches, "One doesn't tend to announce a sneak attack." Milkpaw was an awfully soft-sounding name for the "toughest warrior of all time". Had his mother not wanted anyone to take him seriously? Most apprentices tended to be cocky especially when they were fresh from the nursery, where they had yet to face the struggles and hardships of training. In only a few moons' time, Snakepaw would prove how much of a valuable asset he was to WindClan.

He mutters a complaint to the nearest spectator, "Is he trying to get on the bad side of all of the Lead Warriors?" First Bluepool and now Schorchstreak. Granted, the latter didn't seem all too annoyed at the moment, but still. "I hope he attacks Tigerfrost next. Then he'll really learn a lesson." Tigerfrost was arguably the toughest Lead Warrior in terms of brawn and brutishness. Weaselclaw was a close second, but his paternal instincts would likely prevent him from being too hard on the apprentice. Snakepaw would really like to see the look on Milkpaw's face when he inevitably messed with the wrong warrior.
 
  • Love
Reactions: milkthorn.
Her paw lands across the apprentice’s ear to shake him from her back, and Scorchstreak pulls her body taut, preparing for another lunge. Her reflexes aren’t as quick as they normally would be, so she isn’t able to dodge out of the way of Milkpaw’s jab to her chest. The pale-furred child is not powerful, so she isn’t too threatened, but his words draw a huff from her. "My enemies are usually not my clanmates," she protests, glaring at the smaller cat even as he retreats backward a few steps.

Milkpaw referring to himself as the greatest warrior of all time draws worse than a sigh from the calico. Her mouth twists into a scowl, less good-natured now, and her dark ears pin themselves against her skull. He’s a promising fighter, but… of course. He’s haughty, and on the sidelines Snakepaw seems to have come to the same conclusion. "You seem very confident," she murmurs, before lurching forth in an attempt to smack the apprentice over the head again with a paw. "Why don’t you challenge Snakepaw, instead?"
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
Milkpaw noticed the change of emotion in scorchstreak. And she was right, enemies are not clanmates. But he didn't want made fun of for playing with kits again. Especially not with snakepaw having been in eye sight. He lived up to his name for sure, a snake.

But he was distracted by the other apprentices words, receiving a smack on the head. His ears folded in annoyance at his stupidity. He had to focus. Not get distracted by complaints from his nemesis.

That's what snakepaw reminded him of at least.

"Alright!" he exclaimed, pulling a paw over his head and acting as if he was just fluffing up his scruffy fur. Definitely wasn't in the slightest bit of pain.

The frosted apprentice shuffled to face the bigger apprentice. "You talk a lotta smack anyways. You wanna put some action into those words?" A taunt, trying to see if snakepaw would come for him or not. Albeit, he only knew what little he had seen from other spars, he was going to do his best. He had his father's name to follow in suit of. He had to do his best!

He would be prepared... Just focus, Milkpaw.
 
❪ TAGS ❫ — His shit-eating smirk only widens as Scorchstreak seems to grow tired of Milkpaw's antics, concluding their "battle" with a cuff over the head. It only begins to fade when the Lead Warrior suggests that Milkpaw take him on instead. Why him? Oh, his rotten luck!

A sneer slithers onto his boyish features when the younger apprentice faces him now, challenging him to a spar. On the inside, he knew that he wasn't a fierce warrior. He had been a coward who had retreated with his tail tucked in between his legs during the RiverClan battle. He feared dogs and rabbits and hawks, things that real warriors flung themselves toward without any hesitation. However, Snakepaw would rather be caught dead than let on that he was some sort of wimp who would back down from a challenge.

Making sure to exhibit only bold confidence and nothing less, the arrogant apprentice snorts, "Happy to oblige." before darting toward Milkpaw. Like he's been taught in training, Snakepaw shifts directions swiftly, randomly bounding from side to side. Seizing an opportunity, Snakepaw launched himself off the ground and propelled himself toward Milkpaw's side in an attempt to bowl the younger cat over.
 
Truthfully, Scorchstreak feels a bit guilty about metaphorically throwing Snakepaw to the foxes—she hadn’t given him much of a choice to deny the pale apprentice’s challenge. Snakepaw’s smile, where it had been cocky and even derisive, slips from his face. But then Milkpaw agrees, rubbing at the top of his head, and turns to face Snakepaw, his words goading the other tom into a fight.

The calico grins, pleased, when the dark-furred apprentice rushes Milkpaw. Snakepaw gives him no time to hesitate, to consider—he leaps at the other apprentice, looking confident as ever. Scorchstreak feels a bit bad for hoping that the young tom will bowl his opponent over, will thoroughly beat Milkpaw in their sparring. "Remember, claws out." She doesn’t think they need the reminder, either of them, but it never hurts to say it. It’s a bit amusing, anyhow, for a tunneler such as herself to be overseeing a spar between two moor runners—she huffs out a laugh, but settles onto her haunches to observe in relative silence.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 


So annoying! He had hoped the much older apprentice would not allow such a thing to happen! But that just meant Milkpaw had to try hard. He had to prove himself...

Blue eyes dart back and forth, trying to follow snakepaws quick movements. He did his best to stay calm, unmoving, and as Snakepaw darted to aim to bowl him over, Milkpaw did the best he could to jump and attempt to land on snakepaws arrogant body. (1d20 - 4 = 14)

But his eyes widened and flicked over to Scorchstreak. Claws out? He wasn't aware of this! It was definitely a distraction that Milkpaw didn't need.

( ooc- you don't have to do dice, just helps me decide if his attack lands or not c: )


 
❪ TAGS ❫ — Snakepaw truly hadn't expected Milkpaw to react so quickly to his attack, so when the rosette-spotted tom threw himself on top of him, he let out a strained grunt, "Get off me you little runt—" The midnight black apprentice was not the biggest WindClanner around, nor the strongest, so heaving Milkpaw off may prove to be difficult.

It wasn't until now that Scorchstreak's words finally register in his mind — claws out. If Milkpaw wanted to participate in a true spar, a true fight, then Snakepaw would happily provide that experience for him. Letting out a frustrated snarl, Snakepaw twisted his arm to the best of his ability and aimed to snag his claws across Milkpaw's face from below. Hopefully that would distract the boy enough to loosen his grip or even stagger off.
 
Watching as the two begin to truly spar, Scorchstreak cannot keep the pleased expression from spreading across her face. For one, she’s managed to evade the claws of the rosetted apprentice; and two, she has the chance to watch two apprentices beat the snot out of one another. It’s always entertaining, watching a spar, though a bit less so knowing that she is the one who will have to break it up if the two get too rough. Using their claws is meant to teach them to react to pain in battle, not to horrifically injure them.

Surprisingly, the pale tom is able to keep on his paws, even throwing himself onto Snakepaw’s back. "A good leap, Milkpaw," she says, a plain sort of encouragement. Truly, she doesn’t care which apprentice comes out victorious in their mock battle; she’s no moor runner, and is certainly not the right cat to be coaching either of them. She doesn’t want to cheer more for one or the other, but she will not omit compliments where they are earned.

The dark apprentice is similarly quick to react, raising a paw to aim for the other tom’s face. "And that’s a great reaction, Snakepaw." She commends his awareness of the enemy’s vulnerable areas—striking for the face is a surefire way to gain an advantage. She does worry a bit for Milkpaw’s face, but perhaps if he gains a small scar or two he’ll take sparring more seriously. Perhaps he won’t challenge a lead warrior again.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
  • Haha
Reactions: milkthorn.


His eyes blurred in the momentary fear as she had commanded claws to be out during the spar. He stood atop the other apprentice with blood rushing in his ears, and not hearing his words, but feeling the pain as a claw sliced his jaw. The stinging feeling brought him out of his daze as he did indeed stagger off of the other apprentice.

He heard the encouragement of the lead warrior, which did make him just a bit more confident as claws slid out and he got a good grip of his standings. He would lunge forward with his paws splayed, attempting to grab ahold of the other apprentices face. If he didn't make the attack, He would instead slide forward to eat a mouthful of dirt.

( Lmaoo, he got a -1 on his roll , so crit fail )