pafp who said you're one in a million anyway // spar

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Though the boy can no longer recalls who's wonderful idea this was, he thanks them nonetheless. Forced once more into battle training against his will, it is with some relief that clear blue gaze locks onto his opponent - limbs relaxing as the tension he hadn't known he'd borne leaves him. Snailstride - newly named, newly promoted. A cat who he understands in ways he cannot share with the others - one of the few whom he trusts.

Claws are kept sheathed - a comfort for them both, he thinks, as he gives a stiff nod, his entire being focused on the task at hand. He can feel @Bluepool's stare upon his back - he's hyper aware of it in a frantic, paranoid sort of way, the way one gets when a predator is about to bear down upon them. She is watching him - they all are. Another day another test - another tipping point for the scale. He wants to make her proud, wants to prove himself. I'm more windclan than most, he repeats, his new silent mantra, as he takes a deep breath - sharp, anxious.

They're really doing this. He doesn't give himself much more time to worry than that - as soon as it seems like his friend is ready he's darting forwards, ink dipped paws striking quickly and precisely, though he's a bit slowed by fatigue. The first blow is low - aiming to hit heavily against one grey shoulder, hoping to off balance snailstride. The next is aimed high - to the head, to stun. He calls upon his training the best he can - thinks of late nights spent in secret, thinks of daylight sessions that left him aching. He cannot rely on his size in this fight - snailstride is one of the few taller than him in windclan, with long limbs that rival his own. It will come down to skill - something he severely lacks. It's anyone's game - but he won't go down without a fight.

// please wait for @SNAILSTRIDE
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[SNAILSTRIDE]

It was a bad day for the young warrior to spar. With fur that felt as if it were weighed down by water and eyes that longed for nothing more than to shut, paying attention to what their friend was saying was a challenge far greater than anything Tigerfrost could've given them. Camaraderie had made them agree to whatever it was Periwinkle had asked of them, and though it was not surprising that it was a spar, the marbled could still feel the eyes of their clanmates on them like a hungry hawk. This was entertainment to them, but Snailstride was not laughing along. The reactions they had to their last fall still scorched their memory, sending twinges of anxiety and fury within their bristled fur that the warrior would blame on adrenaline. 'It's not that serious. It doesn't matter.' Easy words, they were sparring with a good friend with shared ideals, but it would do neither of them any favours if they had too much fun before a crowd. They snapped their slack jaw shut and watched as Periwinklepaw darted forwards, the point cat's legs seemingly cantankerous. 'At least we're both having a bad day.' Not that it made the audience any more sympathetic.

A hit to their shoulder and Snailstride outstretched the opposite paw to catch their balance, flashing the apprentice an utterly exhausted grin before having the smile swept off of their face by a cuff to the side of their face. The world spun around the marbled tabby, they weren't sure how much was due to Peri and how much was due to external circumstances. They blinked firmly, staring off into space as they tried to focus their thoughts. He was a WindClanner, a terrible warrior, but not the worst. His name had been cheered a hundred times over, he'd received praise the likes of which their enemies could never hope to get. He was Snailstride. Right, he was Snailstride. A large pupil darted to the corner of their eye and their wily smile returned, instinctively ducking regardless of what their younger friend did next. With a burst of energy, they aimed to headbutt Periwinkle in the chest to bowl him over. They didn't go on the offensive straight away, taking a brief respite to try and shake the cobwebs and regain their fleeting attention span.
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[Bluepool]

Training for a fight is a necessary part of becoming a warrior. Periwinklepaw didn't have to be the best, you couldn't make a diamond out of a turd after all, but defending himself would be a crucial skill he needed as an adult. She knows her pupil doesn't enjoy it, but this was also a good lesson. Sometimes you had to do things you didn't want to. She narrows her eyes slightly as she watches, focusing. She needed to pay attention so later, when he inevitably looses, because she's almost sure he will, she could ask him what he could've done different, but also what was correct so they could build upon it.
She takes a seat, shortened tail curling close to her body as she watches, waiting for the outcome.

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[SCORCHSTAR]

The tunneler is pleased to see a pair of young WindClanners so focused, so invested in their futures, as to fight one another not out of anger but out of some drive to become better at it. It shows willpower, determination—two traits that she has not personally seen in either of the two sparring cats, but that she is glad to see they do indeed possess. Scorchstreak pads over to sit near Bluepool, humming lightly as Periwinklepaw lands a decent hit on his opponent.

Her gaze doesn’t shift away from the two younger cats as she leans in a bit closer to Bluepool. "Who do you think will win," she asks, voice low and only a bit pointed. Periwinklepaw is the moor runner’s apprentice, but she is willing to bet that Bluepool doesn’t have the greatest faith in them. Snailstride is a bit older, anyway, and has shown enough promise to finally be named a warrior.
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[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[SUNNVAR]

It is cruel to say that he had never held much faith in these two. Though he had certainly hoped that the best of them would shine through with time and polishing, it was not a mark of anger to say that some are not suited for this life. They were not warriors in the way that these wilds demanded of them. Softer of heart or of bone, either too weak to leave a mark or too malleable to hold their spine. Differently, yet together all the same, Snailstride and Periwinklepaw both hold such a place in Sunstride's memory. Memory has made of the grey tabby a meek memory, of a youth incapable of all but insult. Much had changed. To see them now, as the two of them were– he is proud, even if his opinion of them has not shifted so far.

"Tigerfrost had made great progress with him," he remarks, his voice not so low as the tunneler's. A faint smile flits through the warmth of his maw at Snailstride's retaliation, regardless of its success. "I do not think either of them incapable of their victory. I should hope it is hard-fought, whoever is left standing."

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-eight moons old. lead warrior of windclan + 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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[Firefang]

Firefang isn't the type to forget, her gaze lingers scornfully on Periwinklepaw as she comes to sit and watch. This would not be a eventful fight, a brawl between losers is all this would be; one lacked the barbarism Windclan had become known for and the other had only shown it when it was her he was facing and that aggression had been squashed and turned to smolders beneath her far mightier paws. She doesn't disguise her leers of distaste, it's deserved and hadn't been curbed by her superiors - in many ways it'd been encouraged the flames of her dislike fanned she'd been given authority over Periwinklepaw and the rest of his wimpy ilk. All gathered together like strange birds of a feather. She's not blind to the fact Snailstride has spent more time around the undesirables; they can do better she wants to believe because while she may not see much potential in them she still likes them well enough. They had improved in the moons since she'd told Sootstar of their fears and traitorous desires. They had earned their warrior name and no longer did she hear talk of them running from the moors to the lap of some nasty twoleg. Yet does she hear much about them or from them at all? She cannot recall the last time they spent anytime together; there's a twinge of sadness whenever she watches them skirt away before she can say so much as hello.

She should know why, she really should but she doesn't.

Her fiery gaze pulls away from Periwinklepaw trying to catch the eye of Snailstride a smirk tugging at her lips as she meows to him. ❝Good luck! Try not to faint this time!❞ it could be lost to the sound of the battle, maybe that would be for the best. She watches trying to look as bored and unimpressed as possible as her clanmates chat near her; but there's a undeniable focus and interest in the way her pupil follows every movement the two cats makes. ​

( ✦ )

 

[milkthorn.]

Milkpaw watched with invested crystal blue eyes against a dirt dusted white flank. He wanted to fight like they were, and in his head he bet that he could beat whoever opposed the small boy. He was fast like the wind and agile.. like.. like a.. he couldn't think of a comparison. But he had high confidence in himself, and watched their movements with a Hawks eye.

He definitely didn't remember having this much focus on something like this spar before. but now that he had the goal in front of him to be a warrior, he wanted to be the best one yet! and he'd prove it however he could!

"can I go next?" he asked quietly to one of the other cats on the sidelines, the small male bouncing on his toes a little in anticipation. "I bet I can beat anyone here!"

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Turning out the conversation going on around them, peri's focus is only on the battle at hand - practice though it may be. The strong headbutt from the older tom sends him stumbling back, pawstep after pawstep, as he tries desperately to keep his balance. It is only the feeling of his hind claws sinking into the soft newleaf growth that steadies him at last, tail lashing a bit irritated. It's not that he's upset as snailstride specifically - no, he's upset at himself, at his fragility. With so many eyes upon his pelt he cannot give in so easily.

Rather desperate to prove himself, he lunges forwards with paws raised in feral ferocity - this time feinting, instead hoping to slip past the grey tabbies defence's and slam his shoulder and head into his back legs in a mimicry of what the young warrior had just done to his chest. He wants to bowl him over entirely - wants to flip him, pin him, whatever it takes. He can already feel his breaths growing shallower with exhaustion - he desperately needs the rest his sickness denies, and it's beginning to show in his movements and the weakness in his limbs.

// tried rolling for his reaction to snail and got an 11 so
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