pafp WHERE DID THE TIME GO? — sparring

[Larkfeather !]

With tensions on the rise, it seemed normal to fine-tune one’s combative skills, smart even.
Which is why Larkfeather had hopped on the bandwagon. The group outside of camp was small, but they had split into duos, rotating opponents every once in awhile, or when someone would win.
As an apprentice, Rabbitpounce more often than not let them practice with sheathed claws, only ever brandishing ivory needles when others were around, but her mentor had taught her the art of agility quickly, and she was able to weasel her way out of most of her teachers blows. Yet, she was a warrior now. Her skill remained intact, but by the time she had decided to join in, feeling like the odd man out, there was only one opponent left.
There is no change in her demeanor as she faces her sibling, there is even a small glimmer in her gaze. Her brother had been distant for quite some time now, but he was still her brother.
She leaps towards Sparkspirit, and the spar begins. While her claws are unsheathed, her blows are nothing more than a mere graze, her intent more to unbalance the other rather than hurt him.
Even so, she somehow ends up with the upper hand after only a little while, flashing her sibling a mischievous grin. ”You’re fighting like a kittypet!” She laughs in his face, but her tone is not malicious, a mere jest to up his motivation.
As though they were still children, spitting childish challenges towards one another.

// please wait for @sparkspirit
”Speech.”

[ YOUR SILVER LINING ]​

​

 

[sparkspirit]

Sparkspirit had been taught well– not with claws sheathed or games of light play. Weaselclaw was a serious mentor, but never cruel. And everything he had done had been to make a warrior out of him. To take those pieces his family had left in him and shred them. It was for him, he had latched on to that easily enough. To be back in such close quarters with those he had been able to avoid for the moons of his apprenticeship is unnerving. Lilacstem had cornered them; Larkfeather and Morningsong spoke with smiles. Even his grandmother had taken a larger step into his life now that he had earned his name. For the life of him, he could not figure out why. Did they think it was Weaselclaw that kept him away? Or did they think that without his protection, they could undo all that he had learned?

His sister is grinning, cheerful and light, and Sparkspirit has been on the defensive from the start. All he wants is for this to be over. But when she laughs, You're fighting like a kittypet! all remnants of his childhood uncertainty are gone. The dark tom's ears pin back against his head. "At least I don't act like one!" He shoots forward hard, slipping to her side at the last second and attempting to hook his unsheathed claws around her back leg and yank, hoping to send her sprawling to the ground.

˗ˏˋ〘  OOC ･ ｡ﾟ🗲 REFERENCE 06.26.2023 〙´ˎ˗

• ooc: —

• 

• sparkspirit, sparky. dmab male, he - him - his.
  ──── moor runner warrior of windclan; is very loyal to his clan.
  ──── 09 moons old. born on 12.15.22, and ages 85% real time.
  ──── echolight x elmbreeze, adopted by yewberry. brightfam?
  
  a long-limbed, trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
  
  his apprenticeship has treated sparkspirit well. a newly-named warrior, he is lean and well-muscled, with paws accustomed to long treks throughout the moorland. he is deceptively sturdy and heavier than one might expect.

• "speech"

​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

It’s not uncommon for WindClan warriors to spar. Keeping their skills sharp is important for every warrior, even those long out of training. He’s happy to see Sparkspirit engaging with another warrior now, their fur fluffed out and teeth bared in mock-anger. He’d rather his former apprentice’s opponent be a cat of equal caliber—but his sister is proving to be a good opponent, swift and with just the right quips to get his blood up.

“You’re fighting like a kittypet,” she jests, and Weaselclaw’s blue eyes gleam. Sparkspirit’s claws unsheathe—the wrath glowing like hot fire in his electric gaze singes the lead warrior’s whiskers. Weaselclaw wraps his tail about white paws as claws begin to rake over fur and flesh.

“Are you excited to learn to fight like this?” He asks the apprentice sitting near him. @HOLLYPAW. has no traitor blood, only the heritage of a fierce and loyal WindClan warrior, and he doubts the young she-cat will have half of what Sparkspirit feels he has to prove. Weaselclaw tries to catch the young warrior’s eye in a silent show of support.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[Creekpaw]

The tortie molly was returning from a hunting patrol with her mentor when her gaze caught on a sparring ring forming. Her own combat skills were truly below the standard, and she could definitely use some help with it. Perhaps she could join in on the next round!

She can't help but laugh at the words exchanged by the two siblings, tentatively sitting a few paces from Weaselclaw's intimidating form. She generally didn't know the warrior, only that she didn't quite like the way he looked at others. Like he could kill them at the drop of a whisker. The tom have her chills, to say the least, and she would personally rather avoid the male.

Creekpaw glanced nervously over at him before returning her gaze on the fight. From her position, she could see how Larkfeather was pulling her punches, per se, and that she was egging him on as motivation. She admired it. The tortoiseshell molly tilted her ever so slightly as to get an altered facet of the spar. She supposed Larkfeather would let her brother win, based on the fact she was holding back... but she also didn't know Larkfeather very well-- if the molly was confident, competetive, and ambitious or more on the opposite side of things. She would just have to see, then, wouldn't she.
​

walk "talk." thought
penned by helly​

 

[Bluepool]

When Bluepool looks at the next generation of cats in WindClan she feels pride. They were strong, steadfast and everything a warrior should be. It feels as if finally, finally, they had pulled out all of the weeds that threatened to overtake them. There are still a couple who do not show promise, she knows that is inevitable. There would always be the weak and the strong and right now they are outnumbered by the strong.

When she settles down to watch the spar, her yellow eyes trained on the two cats that exchange blows, she cannot help but hear her brother-in-laws words. He speaks to Hollypaw, asks if she is excited to one day fight like this. Perhaps sometime soon she could orchestrate a training day between the younger apprentices. It would be good practice. Perhaps she should fetch her own apprentice, make him watch. Much could be learned from observing after all.

​

 

[HOLLYPAW---]

☽༺♰༻☾​

hollypaw was never really interested in wrestling her denmates. much did she prefer to be sat on the side, watching, absorbing how they competed in their show of inherent strength. it was much harder then too. a small kitten, when she did partake she was quickly bested by larger opponents. a certain loss she found no reason to subject herself to.

she was bigger now, would begin to learn to fight with skill rather than instinct. hollypaw was entirely more interested in that. still, the idea of sparring seemed a bit of a bore. why fight when the intent was not to end your opponent? waste starclan granted energy and strength onto someone you were supposed to fight alongside? of course when prompted she would not refuse, but her claws yearned for revenge, not play or practice. "yes," a bit too quickly she responds to weaselclaw, a white tipped tail twitches in embarrassment at her own eagerness.

the spar progresses, sparkspirit hastened in his attacks after a comment by his sister that she didn't quite hear. hollypaw wasn't too informed on the inner politics of each clanmate, but she was aware that both of these cats stemmed from the blood of traitors. sparkspirit got a pass, just barely due to their shared mentor. for that fact alone, she was rooting for his success. "who do you think will win?" despite the proximity to weaselclaw, the question was not asked to him alone. open for any to answer, although if her mentor were to offer one she would surely hold his in higher regard. after all, he must know the skillset of at least one of the young warriors better than any.
​

 

[Larkfeather !]

At least I don’t act like one!
His retort is spoken in a far harsher tone then expected, and Larkfeather starts to wonder if her method worked a little too well.
She doesn’t have a heartbeat to think on it, though. What was once a solid figure of russet and black was now a moving shadow, darting towards her.
The lilac warrior attempts to lean herself to the side to minimize the upcoming impact, feeling a split second of confusion when Sparkspirit seemingly breezes past her, until she feels the sharp needle pricks of her brothers claws sink into her hind leg, tearing it out from under her.
Soft underbelly collides with the ground and thin limbs are awkwardly sprawled as she takes the others hit.
Upon instinct, she rolls despite the loss of breath in her stomach, tucking limbs into herself before pushing them off the ground.
She only spares a glance towards her leg, before her attention narrows back into Sparkspirit.
"Excuse me..?" Her late reply is merely a breath of realization, connecting his words to his actions seconds too late.
Before he’d be able to strike again, Larkfeather would kick up at the dirt on the ground, hoping to send enough dust spraying in her littermates direction to buy her time with distraction, before she’d take the offense and move towards the warrior, aiming to use a forepaw to hook at one of his forelegs and unbalance Sparkspirit. Still keeping her pressure light, she’d hope to deliver a series of pummels if her initial attack succeeded.
She didn’t want to actually cause him harm, but she almost worried that the nerve she struck had crossed a line.
"Speech."

[ YOUR SILVER LINING ]​

​

 

[sparkspirit]

It did. It worked too well, and the anger that spills out of him now is a lifetime's worth– even before his birth, he had been doomed by blood. He carried the curse of what they had done, what they had said. Ember? Pollen? Mallow? His father had stood up for a traitor and been named one himself, and didn't even have the strength to stand by what he had first said. And his mother– his mother was living life as some soft-fed kittypet, he's certain of it; who's to say it hadn't been by choice when everyone else had left? All that remained for him was WindClan. No, Hollypaw could never fight the way that he did. Not without sharing the weight that Sparkspirit carries with him now. But at least Weaselclaw's teachings had honed it to a weapon. They are not strong enough for WindClan. They made the wrong choice. He never would.

Though his littermate sprawls to the dirt, the warrior does not press his advantage. Electric eyes gleam as they meet Weaselclaw's. Vicious pride is as bright as lightning. It gleams like fire when he turns back to Larkfeather, circling away from her some when she finds her paws. It dies some when his eyes squeeze tight against the shower of dirt. His head instinctively ducks against the threat, but her paws hammer into him nearly harsh enough to daze him. Despite the initial glow of pain, Sparkspirit lowers his head a little more and charges forward to ram into the delicate spot at the front of her chest just beside her shoulder. Hopefully it is just enough to shove her away from him again and allow him to swipe viciously at her shoulder with unsheathed claws. "Everything's a game to you! Like nothing's ever wrong. You're no better than any of the others that left, won't you just admit it?"

˗ˏˋ〘  OOC ･ ｡ﾟ🗲 REFERENCE 06.26.2023 〙´ˎ˗

• ooc: AAAAAUGH I'M SO SORRY HE'S MEAN,,,,,,,,, IT HURTS ME TO WRITE IT

• 

• sparkspirit, sparky. dmab male, he - him - his.
  ──── moor runner warrior of windclan; is very loyal to his clan.
  ──── 09 moons old. born on 12.15.22, and ages 85% real time.
  ──── echolight x elmbreeze, adopted by yewberry. brightfam?
  
  a long-limbed, trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
  
  his apprenticeship has treated sparkspirit well. a newly-named warrior, he is lean and well-muscled, with paws accustomed to long treks throughout the moorland. he is deceptively sturdy and heavier than one might expect.

• "speech"

​

 

[Morningsong~]

Morningsong watched and listened from afar, the spar going on between his siblings. He thought nothing of it at first, but as spectators gathered, he felt compelled to come and join them. Quiet steps lead him to sit a safe distance away, and he finds he immediately regrets coming over as he hears the words flung back and forth. He hadn't expected the words out of Sparkspirit's mouth, and he didn't expect to feel a flash of anger in his heart over it.

How dare he speak to her that way.

He buried it immediately. His overprotective brother instinct couldn't win. This was between Sparkspirit and Larkfeather, he was merely a spectator. But he would remember these words...They could easily be directed at him as well. That would be for another time though, hopefully. Or, not hopefully. He'd rather not fight his siblings but whatever happens happens.

"Oh my." Is all that escapes his mouth as he watches on as he normally would, expression neutral.​

 

[Lilacstem]

Like Morningsong, Lilacstem watches and listens from afar. Spars like this are not uncommon but the intensity in which the two siblings fight unsettles her. Of course, Lilacstem's expression betrays none of her concerns, but inside, a veritable torrent of emotions rages in her head. Sparkspirit's words regarding their kin dig deeply into Lilacstem. She knows Larkfeather had been speaking in jest, but it had clearly riled up Sparkspirit something fierce. Lilacstem feels some of his rage is Weaselclaw's doing, though she wonders if most of it is not just the bitter words of a child who seen many losses in his life, both unexplained and unjustified.

"Your siblings both show excellent battle prowess," Lilacstem mews to Morningsong. "What fine warriors of WindClan you have all become."​

 

[Larkfeather !]

The heels of her hind paws burn as she is forced back from her brother, her attack failing with his last minute defense.
Larkfeather is acting on muscle memory, preparing to spring away and attack from a different angle, when suddenly something slams against her shoulder, claws hooking into flesh and sending crimson-laced pain shooting through her.
She falters with a grunt of surprise and pain, widened eyes locked onto Sparkspirit when he begins to speak- berate her.
Everythings a game to you! Like nothings ever wrong. You’re no better than any of the others that left, won’t you just admit it?
Despite the pain in her shoulder, the venom her brother spits cause a rip from somewhere within her chest, the anger radiating from him causing a genuine spark of fear in her muted gaze.
He was wrong. Cruel.
And this was a fight.
”That’s not true.” Her defense is a broken whisper, a small shake of her head.
If he’d attempt to strike at her once more, Larkfeather would duck her head, her body following close behind, and attempt to lunge at her brother once more, but this time she’d go for his flank. Claws outstretched, the lilac warrior would aim to sink her claws into the softer part of his side, kicking with force behind her legs in hopes of truly bringing him to the ground this time. If her defense worked, she’d have Sparkspirit in a half-hazard pin, looking down on him with the remnants of her hurt sewn to her expression.
”I’m here. Right here. I always have been, won’t you just admit that? You’re the one who pretended as though I didn’t exist. ” In the back of her mind, she’s acutely aware of Weaselclaws gaze trained on their spar, on her brother and aunts.
With this, she keeps her voice lowed, uncharacteristically emotional.
How dare you.

// ic opinions as always :,) <3
”Speech.”

[ YOUR SILVER LINING ]​

​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

He acknowledges Bluepool’s approach with a friendly nod. Creekpaw and Sparkspirit’s other sibling, Morningsong, come to spectate as well. The blows come faster, and anger cracks through on both sides. Sparkspirit’s retort is met with indignation; Larkfeather’s pale limbs begin to strike more earnestly against the rust-and-shadow figure of Weaselclaw’s former apprentice. He watches intently, saying nothing to intercept the battle.

“Who do you think will win?” Hollypaw prompts him. The tabby is quiet a moment, watching snarls fly from exposed fangs. “Sparkspirit was my apprentice, and I’ve taught him well. He’s fought fiercely in every battle he’s been in…” his voice lowers for Hollypaw’s benefit only: “And he’s not held back by his blood anymore.”

Lilacstem approaches, also one of the few remaining kin Sparkspirit has in WindClan. “They are indeed,” he mumbles, still distracted. Yes, though he does not know the other warriors are thinking about his indoctrination of Sparkspirit, he is thinking now of how proud he is of the young warrior. Sparkspirit will not be shackled any longer.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​