WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ⁀➷ ASSESSMENT

[FALLOWBITE]

ˏˋ*⁀➷　Fallowpaw is unsteady. She's missing half her face, a hollow where her eye once was. She's wrong-footed, stumbling when she shouldn't, cursing her blindness. It's a hard thing to get used to, navigating the world at a loss.

Time does not wait for her to recover.

The promise of warriorhood looms over her head. Close, so close that she can almost grab it in her teeth. Despite her apparent disaffectedness, she finds herself wanting. It is a promise of freedom, roaming the woods on her own. A promise of respect, of power. She licks her lips in anticipation, digs her claws into the ground. She can't mess this up.

"Just tell me what I gotta do," Fallowpaw rumbles, stood before its mentor. She's brought them all the way out into the territory, just the two of them. Only one cat to judge whether or not it is worthy, and Fallowpaw feels the looming dread of what she her verdict will be.

‎‎┌── HERE IN THE FOREST, DARK AND DEEP ⁀➷ I OFFER YOU ETERNAL SLEEP ──┐‎

• @STORMYWING
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  FALLOWPAW ⁀➷ she / it, apprentice of thunderclan, eleven moons.
  ➳ a scarred, pointed brown and white molly with shaggy fur and golden eyes.
  ➳ standoffish and solitary, always seems to have a dark cloud hanging over its head.
  ➳ baying hound xx npc, littermate to antlerpaw & doepaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[STORMYWING]

There is something still unsettled within her, a tension between herself and Fallowpaw she can't seem to dispel. It all began with this stupid kittypet sutff. Well...okay, maybe she and Fallowpaw have had issues from the beginning. For some reason, she just can't seem to have that same relationship with her that she sees everyone else form with their apprentices. No, her apprentice does things like run away for half a moon and talk smack behind her back! With a terse sigh, she gives her head a shake and turns to face it, shoving the negativity out of her mind. She still cares about her. She wants her to pass.

"Alright, Fallowpaw, this is it," She begins, voice steady, encouraging. She tips her chin up and flicks her ears forward, her tail waving high in the air. "I know this is gonna be more difficult for you. You're gonna have to adjust a whole lot after the accident, but I believe in you, kid. You've got this." With the pep talk out of the way, it's time to get into instructions. "First, we'll start with a race through the forest. Finish line is the Sandy Hollow. It'll be a test of your speed and agility, but also your ability to adapt." She gives her apprentice an assessing look, golden eyes flicking down then back up. It'll be a struggle for her, but what really will matter is how persistent Fallowpaw is, not necessarily if she wins. Not many cats can beat Stormywing in a test of agility anyway. "After that, we'll spar, and your assessment will be over. Got it?"

With a reassuring flick of her tail, the blue tabby paces back a few steps and takes her mark. "When you're ready, we'll go. Focus on the sounds and scents around you - use them to guide you, not just your sight. You can't fully rely on that anymore. Being a warrior isn't about just strength and speed - it's about adapting to whatever comes your way." She hopes her apprentice takes that lesson to heart. "Ready? On my mark...three...two...one...go!" She gives her a head-start, just a small one. And as Fallowpaw takes off, Stormywing follows close behind, keeping a watchful eye on her performance before she puts on a true burst of speed.​

 

[FALLOWBITE]

ˏˋ*⁀➷　This is it. Fallowpaw steadies itself, breathes in and out. Its claws root its body to the earth, dug deep - a comforting ritual, a way to ease their racing heart. There is a cheer in Stormywing's voice, there always is. Even as she speaks of its accident, a word that twists like a thorn in its pelt. Its mother's claws have robbed its sight, its steadiness, just before it would need it most. Her mentor's belief in her does little to ease the sting. She is fighting an uphill battle, and even the knowledge of that is enough to set her on edge.

Focus. She flicks her ear to dispel any dismal thoughts, lets her mentor's instructions settle in her mind. "Got it." Her voice is steely, a quick jerk of her head accompanying her affirmation.

And then - she's off.

The race begins, and Fallowpaw moves. She shoots from the starting position like a bullet from a gun - head down, barreling forwards with all the strength that she can muster. Her paws are deft, powerful, and she knows the forest as well as the beating of her own heart. She is of it, a beast of tangled briars and branching oaks, a predator crafted in tones of the deepest woods. Tufted toes and calloused paw-pads thump against the earth below. It sounds like a thunderclap, a heralding of her blind charge.

Focus on the sounds and scents around you, Stormywing had said - but it is hard to focus on much of anything but the feeling of the ground beneath her paws. She runs half-blind, guided by instinct and will. She runs with the sheer determination of pursuit, with the want to catch victory like a rabbit in her teeth. Her paws are clumsy, uncoordinated. They catch upon roots, kick up leaves and sticks. She nearly falls, more than once - but she does not stop, not ever.

She is aware, at least, of Stormywing's approach beside her. Her eye flickers over only for a moment, and a growl begins to rise in her throat. She refuses to lose this. Not to her hovering kittypet mentor, a joke to all the clan. What would that make her, if she can't prove herself better?

Head down, she barrels forward. She puts everything else out of mind; Fallowpaw exists only in the contracting and lengthening of muscles, the wind weaving through tangled fur, the kicked-up dust beneath sturdy paws. She does not look up again until she has reached Sandy Hollow, breath heaving from her chest.

She makes it there just before Stormywing, with multiple bruised ankles to show for it, and she bares her teeth in a grin.

‎‎┌── HERE IN THE FOREST, DARK AND DEEP ⁀➷ I OFFER YOU ETERNAL SLEEP ──┐‎

• ROLLS
  SPEED - 6 (full success) she is going as fast as her legs can carry her
  AGILITY - 2 (poor) stumbling and knocking into things but not falling
  SENSES - 2 (poor) not very aware of her surroundings
  
  TOTAL: 10, SUCCESS
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  FALLOWPAW ⁀➷ she / it, apprentice of thunderclan, eleven moons.
  ➳ a scarred, pointed brown and white molly with shaggy fur and golden eyes.
  ➳ standoffish and solitary, always seems to have a dark cloud hanging over its head.
  ➳ baying hound xx npc, littermate to antlerpaw & doepaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[STORMYWING]

Stormywing watches Fallowpaw with intense focus as her apprentice launches into the race. The unsteady gait, the missteps - it's clear that the accident has taken its toll, but the determination in Fallowpaw's stride is undeniable. As it pushes through the obstacles, Stormywing's gold eyes narrow in assessment, bounding just behind her. After all, this race is a test of more than just speed; it's a test of adaptability, of overcoming the adversity that Fallowpaw faces. And to say she’s impressed by the apprentice's sheer will to push forward despite her limitations is an understatement. The stormy gray tabby forces herself to keep pace, slowing from her usual lightning-quick agility and only offering a burst of speed when Fallowpaw nears the finish line.

When her apprentice finally reaches the Sandy Hollow, battered but triumphant, Stormywing can't help but feel a mixture of pride and relief. The she-cat’s perseverance shines through, even if her technique needs work. That’ll come with time though. Fallowpaw will learn to adapt to her disability. The warrior slows to a stop and pads up to it, her gaze softening as she looks at Fallowpaw's exhausted but triumphant grin.

"Well done, Fallowpaw," She praises, a note of genuine approval in her voice. "Now, let's see how you handle yourself in a spar. Remember, it's not just about strength - it's about not giving up. Give it your best shot."

With a twinkle of competition in her eyes, she squares up opposite of her and allows her apprentice to make the first move. She doesn’t say so out loud, but Fallowpaw does not need to win this spar to pass. She just needs to show the warrior that she won’t give up, she’ll keep persisting through challenges because that’s what it means to be a ThunderClanner.

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