TigerNight’s blue eyes swept the camp clearing carefully. His paws were already itching for something more. He hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to be an apprentice—bored stiff between patrols, stuck fetching moss, and constantly craving action.

Well, now it was his turn to lead. “Alright, listen up!” His voice rang clear, slicing through the noise like a claw. “Apprentices who need battle practice—now’s your chance. Get your tails out here. Doesn’t matter if you just started or you’re close to your ceremony. We’ll head to the territory shortly. For now, everyone get a single partner.” He paused, letting the words hang for a second as he flicked his tail toward the entrance. His gaze swept over the clearing again, lingering for a moment on the younger cats. “Any warriors who feel like throwing claws or helping out, you’re welcome too.”

With that, he leapt down and waited by the can’t exit. His name was TigerNight now, and it was time to prove he’d earned every syllable of it.



NEXT POST MAY 11TH

He let out a huff upon seeing a kit come over. Had he called kits? No. He hadn’t. And why the hell did it seem that no cat cared for the order of everyone get a single partner. Were these cats deaf or just idiots? “Sorry kid, we’re leaving camp. You have t’ stay here. Maybe when we get back I can give you a basic lesson though.” he offered, not hating the idea. Mama cared for these kits, so he should too?

His gaze then flicked to the enforcer who joined and nodded gratefully. “Will do, thank you for joining.” he replied. NewtBelly was a cat he enjoyed, mostly for the help the tom had offered with TigerNights training. RookFire soon joined too and TigerNight acknowledged him with a flick of his tail.

And- why the hell was one of DawnStars kids the only one to follow orders?

TigerNight’s ear twitched. He turned his head slowly, cool blue eyes locking on ColdPaw. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just stared the apprentice down with a faint flick of his tail. Then he padded forward with a measured pace, voice low but sharp. “Oh, we’re starting alright. I was giving the slowpokes a chance to catch up, but apparently most cats, mentally, haven’t caught up with the fact you find your own damn partner.” his voice raised as he said that, hoping the cats would take a hint. And ColdPaw, who seemingly failed that task as well.

With a sharp lash of his tail, Tigernight turned toward the camp entrance. “Follow me,” he huffed tot he gathered cats. He didn’t bother glancing back to see if they were following. They would, or they’d hear about it later.

The trek through the territory was brisk, his pace unpausing. He chose a flat patch of open ground near the trees, where pawsteps wouldn’t slip and brambles wouldn’t tangle. As soon as the last apprentice caught up, TigerNight spun around to face them with that same restless energy in his muscles.

“Right. We’re starting from the beginning, since half of you look like you don’t know which paw to lead with.” He began to pace in front of the gathered cats, claws flexing slightly with each step.

“Basic stance first. Claws sheathed. Shoulders loose. Center your weight. You move like you’re going to fall on your face, you will.” He demonstrated, dropping into a low, balanced crouch — legs spaced evenly, tail stiff behind him for balance. “Every decent fighter starts here. Whether you're brawling a rogue or fending off a snake, it all starts with your stance.”

He stood and started walking through the group, eyes sharp. “If I tap you, adjust your weight or your posture.”

Then, lifting his head again, he barked: “Now face your partner. Mirror their stance. Watch their paws. We’re going to cycle through basic hits and dodges next … because the first rule of battle is don’t get hit.”

He backed up to give them room, tail flicking. “NewtBelly, RookFire—feel free to help correct form.”