Marshypaw
Male / *Ahem* Moons / ShadowClan / Sexuality Unknown
Russet tabby tom with cream-brown fur around the torso, blue and yellow heterochromatic eyes, and a naturally sinister expression
“Well there’s no point to misery without joy, now is there? Just like there’s no point to beauty without brains! That last part is something that you, my friend, need to work on!”
~Marshypaw
✽❀✽
Well, maybe Willowpaw was not the boldest of all bold things, but at least she was trying. In Marshypaw’s opinion, technically that was all that really mattered. The nerve-wracked apprentice was something that the russet and cream tom had not seen before, and her personality was not generic, it was not boring, and it was not average, so he felt an automatic love for it. As awkward as it was to stand here while she fell over in anxiety, panic, and self-loathing, it was oddly entertaining for somebody like Marshypaw. It out an end to his joy-eating boredom, and more importantly, it gave him some new relationships in his life. The russet and cream tabby apprentice could only hope that he and Willowpaw actually developed a decent friendship at least, if not something deeper, like a close friendship. Heck, maybe romance would even decide to say hello at some point, Marshypaw had no idea. He needed it somewhere, and young as he was, he had already decided that he was running out of time… at seven and a half moons. Upsetting as this may be, he found his own struggles pretty funny, so he allowed them to keep happening. If Willowpaw was his one step closer to a decently interesting lifestyle, well then perfect, he was going to take it. Hopefully he could bring her some happiness and confidence during the process. Yes, and then knock it all back down at the end because… chaos! His yellow and blue gaze gleamed with joy at the thought. Of course! He was a drama-genius! But we can’t get too far ahead of ourselves… I still have to get her through this interaction without her dying of a heart-attack. I have to wonder how she’s gotten this far, though… ah, anyway. Time to try to be decently supportive, yes?
When he finally told her that her name sounded pretty, just casual nice-guy/gentleman small talk, he found the tortoiseshell apprentice staring at him as if he had just told her that he planned on setting fire to camp or something else completely absurd. So squinting at his anxious denmate, Marshaw tilted his head to the side in confusion. I suppose it might be her resting face? Well… we’ll just have to wait and see. Hopefully I can actually process her words next time she speaks to me, though. But he still had some speaking to do. Marhsypaw did not notice when Willowpaw meekly began to say, ‘Pardon’, and instead he kept on speaking. He kindly let her know that she had not in fact been walking weird, it their collision was only the fault of his own lack of awareness, but naturally, Willowpaw began to defend him, throw herself down again. Marshypaw stammered into silence for a moment, staring at the she-cat with wide, waiting eyes and listening carefully as she spoke. He hung onto every word, mostly just because it was amazing to finally understand what she was telling him without loosing himself in the chaos of her voice, but also because he was trying to make sense of their situation. She told him that she did not think that she was humble at all, referring to herself only as ‘weird a-and stuff’ with the characteristic stutter on the ‘and’, shuffling her paws. But she also thanked him, and that was where things got a bit more complicated. Marshypaw’s head shifted upright again. Well, that’s just fine. At least she expressed her gratitude instead of simply telling me I’m wrong. I suppose you can be both humble AND completely, utterly hopeless in yourself and your abilities. Maybe I’ll try and fix it? Oh, but goodness- I would need more time than just a singular interaction!? Oh boy. Willowpaw is… certainly a personality. So in a light voice, he casually told her, “You struggle with confidence, not talent, I’m assuming. But worry not, my good friend, because that’s certainly an easy fix.”
But when Willowpaw began to go on and on about how no, she was not nice, even going so far as to say that Dawnstar, the Queen of Violence herself, was nicer than her. Marshypaw raised his eyebrows, doubt clotting his gaze. Then for a moment, he stood silently, thinking. Well, now that’s just unrealistic… I’ll let her know. Purposely keeping his voice soft and leveled, he casually told her, “Mhm… say that again once you’ve shamelessness torn apart your enemies. Dawnstar does what she’s got to, just a bit… violently, I’ll say. Now, you? Willowpaw, you might not be blowing eith confidence, but I’m sure you’re nicer than that.” For the first time in forever, Marshypaw was not speaking as if he was some old man, some passive aggressive roast-god, or even the theater-boy he always seemed to be. By now, it was getting obvious that Willowpaw was not feeling her calmest at the moment, and talking with so much complexity would probably just make things worse for the both of them. So instead, Marshypaw tried to speak simply and clearly. But eventually, that was over because he got bored (naturally), and he went along to go offer to fetch the tortoiseshell apprentice a piece of prey. It just felt like a nice, Asian thing to do, but of course Willowpaw managed to turn the small act of kindness into en entire panic explosion. Marshypaw blinked and stared at his clanmate blankly, watching as the ShadowClan apprentice stared at him in shock with her maw wide open. Oh well. He tried. Awkwardly, he met her gaze, and waited for a verbal reaction to pop out form the nervous ShadowClan apprentice.
Eventually, it hit him like lightning. Marshypaw perked his ears and leaned towards his denmate a little bit so that he could catch on to the main point of what she was telling him, promising himself that he would at least try to translate whatever she was trying to tell him with the best of his abilities, and if he failed to understand, too bad, so sad. He would move on, and at least , Willowpaw would do the same. The she-cat started off by telling him that her name was Willowpaw, but he probably already knew that, and hastily, the young tom-cat nodded in response. Correct, his name was Marshypaw. Then she seemed to loose track of her words, talking strangely and briefly questioning her own speaking abilities… before moving right on to asking him how his day had been. Glad for some normal small talk, Marshypaw opened his mouth and prepare to respond, but the only sound that left his mouth was a little, unfinished, ‘Feh-” before Willowpaw took off again. He waited in patience, watching her with his friendliest smile, secretly dying inside of confusion. Willowpaw went back to the fact that oh, right, she was supposed to be introducing herself and telling him about her, but there was not much, making it weird. As little sense as some of this made, Marshypaw still tried his hardest to understand, ignoring the dying urge to passive aggressively tell her that she didn’t seem to know how to speak their language, so she should talk slower. But then the little bit of venting happened, and Marshypaw’s interests were snatched. When Willowpaw began to explain how it felt like walking, but sliding on ice, but also flying weightlessly, before asking herself what she was even talking about. Marshypaw proceeded to stare blankly. Well, it seemed not everybody was good with improvisation, but that was alright. They were both trying their best right now to understand Willowpaw, then, if it was true that she couldn’t even understand herself.
Then when she said that she might be imagining things, Marshypaw couldn’t help but mumble, “Huh? Imagining wha-” but she cut him off by casually throwing her own paw into her face. It was in that moment Marshypaw finally came to the realization that Willowpaw was… not in a position to be experimenting with her imagination herself, seeing as she was willing to literally whack herself in the face (painfully, at that) to test herself. The russet anc cream tabby raised a paw to try and prevent her from doing anything else that unnecessary, but she seemed finished. He sighed in semi-genuine relief, before allowing the usual dramatic mindset to flop back into his head. Well, she’s… fun…? In her own way…? I’ll make sure to let her know that the paw-slamming of the face isn’t the best way to know whether or not you’re dreaming… ah, chaos. I’ll have a loooong list of things to say by the end of this, won’t I? The anxious apprentice then introduced herself to him again, even including the fact that she was in ShadowClan as if he didn’t already know. Things got weird once she added that she thought for a moment that he was a ThunderClan cat. Marshypaw wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes, gazing at Willowpaw through thin slits. Oh, nasty. If anything, I’d be RiverClan or WindClan, goodness… certainly not ThunderClan, too much time spent of in the trees for a tom like me’s liking… yes, how about NOT. Then she thought he was RiverClan, then she decided that no, RiverClan was evil (this made Marshypaw feel a little bit victorious, because that thought of hers meant that she thought he wasn’t evil, technically. For now-), and she proved it by telling him that wait, no, he was good. Marshypaw blinked again, puzzled, and zoning out just slightly. She’d made an interesting protagonist in a story, wouldn’t she… be funny to tell a story about a nervous wreck to a bunch of kids, though… or maybe we… hey, what? He snapped out of it when Willowpaw called herself the atagonist. Well, that was quite an amusing mispronunciation, and Marshypaw truly had to fight to avoid laughing at least a little. Thanks to the friendly smile that was already on his face, this wasn’t too big of an issue when it came to coverage. She asked how it was said, so quietly, he corrected her, “Antagonist. Don’t worry, it’s hard to pronounce, tsk.” Yeah, Marshypaw completely lost her once she began to mention mayors, coral prisons, and fish- the majority of which was absolutely foreign to the young tom. But in the end, he caught onto the fact that she was claiming to be finished speaking, and giving him his turn. Wow. Who knew having conversations was some sort of game, let alone a complicated and awkward one. Once again, oh well. Moving on.
Marshypaw just wanted to create a pleasant environment, so he started off calmly and gently, sort of as if he was talking to a crying small child. “Hey, hey… it was a small bump, and nobody’s in any physical pain anymore, are we? You certainly did nothing wrong, and even if you had, I would have forgiven you by now, friend. I’m happy to know that you are not angry with me, though… I’ve met some… grumpy folk, that’s for sure, but I have to say, you are one of the more likable cats I’ve met so far, Willowpaw. In other words, I like you, let’s be friends, shall we? Now, how’s mouse sound, eh?” With a light laugh Marshypaw lowered his head to take a small, unusually polite bite from the meal sitting in between them. Then sitting with perfect posture again, he made sure to finish chewing before speaking again. As he did, he carefully nudged the mouse in Willowpaw’s direction encouragingly, even somewhat expectantly. “It’s nice to get to know somebody who deserves my kindness, anyway. It’s quite a shame how the worst of cats always view so highly of themselves… not fair, really. But I have an offer, you could call it. Well, for lack of a better term, call it a proposal, if you will. I’ve noticed that you seem to be a bit of the nervous sort… and I would hope that I’ve helped with some of the panic by this point, but if I have not, that it nobody’s fault but mine, so no worries there. As I was saying, if you ever begin to feel as if you are slipping on the ice again, if you would like, you can always come to get me. Goodness, Willowpaw, it could be the dark of night for all I care, I don’t sleep much anyway, ha- come and get me if you ever panic. I’m always here, always open.” Then with another friendly smile, Marshypaw gave the small meal another glance of hope and expectancy. Just a mouse… it is… but… if she eats, we’ll know she’s calming down a little. If she doesn’t eat, she’s still frightened of me. In other words, in the end, either I might have a chance at gaining her trust (if she eats), or I’m just hopeless. Man, who knew it would all come down to a partially bitten mouse.
- My characters’ opinions, thoughts, and behaviors are not necessarily a reflection of my own. I can assure you that we are certainly separate beings. -
Morning was passing by far too quickly. Newtbelly had planned to train Tickpaw today, but, truth be told, he was a little nervous. So, he found himself sat in the clearing, tail flickering anxiously. He tried to remember how Owlthroat had approached him, but soon realised the gruff tomcat was of a very different demeanour. He was certainly the type to come and wake his apprentice at the crack of dawn. A sigh escaped his lips as he gazed up at the clouds. Being a warrior was far harder than he expected. Far more finicky tasks and far less exciting battles than he'd hoped. That said, maybe training his apprentice would help him get rid of his constant 'battle bug', at least a little. Struck by just enough motivation, he jumped up. Tickpaw would probably be in the apprentice den, right? Newtbelly padded over cautiously, "hey, Tickpaw, you in there? How'd you like to get a bit of battle training done?" He suddenly realised how disorganised of a mentor he'd become - surely a better cat would make some kind of schedule, right?? Or like, something other than awkwardly poking their head into the apprentice den. Agh! He needed to focus more!!
Morning was passing by far too quickly. Newtbelly had planned to train Tickpaw today, but, truth be told, he was a little nervous. So, he found himself sat in the clearing, tail flickering anxiously. He tried to remember how Owlthroat had approached him, but soon realised the gruff tomcat was of a very different demeanour. He was certainly the type to come and wake his apprentice at the crack of dawn. A sigh escaped his lips as he gazed up at the clouds. Being a warrior was far harder than he expected. Far more finicky tasks and far less exciting battles than he'd hoped. That said, maybe training his apprentice would help him get rid of his constant 'battle bug', at least a little. Struck by just enough motivation, he jumped up. Tickpaw would probably be in the apprentice den, right? Newtbelly padded over cautiously, "hey, Tickpaw, you in there? How'd you like to get a bit of battle training done?" He suddenly realised how disorganised of a mentor he'd become - surely a better cat would make some kind of schedule, right?? Or like, something other than awkwardly poking their head into the apprentice den. Agh! He needed to focus more!!
TickPaw was resting in the apprentice den, half-awake and drowsily batting a moss paw around. His mind a buzzing orchestra of worries and head resting on the plush moss nest underneath, stifling down a groan. He’d found more comfort in the apprentice den than he thought he would have and mother had started to eye him over his lack of training. He knew that it was most likely neither he nor his prey-cat mentor’s fault but, in all honesty, he still despised whoever mother despised. It was bad enough that TickPaw had missed his apprentice ceremony, been shouted at by mother and been barely out more than a whisker both Mother wise and mentor wise, but ontop of all that-. At the stray sound of his mentor’s voice his head perked up and his tail flicked from side to side, pushing his paws and abandoning the moss ball to roll away he sat up and gave his fur a few quick licks. Training? Battle training? Energy burst into his movement quicker than he could process the words and he perkily stalked over and rushed to his mentor’s side, and despite his obvious excitement offered a relaxed as he could reply. “I would be delighted to take the opportunity to get some battle training done, what sort of battle training would we be working on?” TickPaw knew there was more to battle than swiping your paws around, it was a whole game of sorts where there were rules you had to align to and moves you had to vary- opportunities for attacking and defense. He’d never been more excited for anything in his apprentice hood (which set the bar pretty low since he was only a few days into starting). Considering the fact that TickPaw had now energised himself around the idea of battle training he took whatever time he had standing still to compose himself, his mind was eager to bounce ahead but he’d watched cats who rush get squashed by another seeking the opportunity to squash them. Only prey-cats rushed ahead, and he was avoiding that at all costs as well as attention. He needed to avoid attention and slacking. Easy for anycat who wasn’t him. His paws scuffed over one another as he stared at NewtBelly, an idle motion where he tried to seem more like he was seeking out a response than staring out of a lack of other things to do.
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Heya! If you’re interested in rping feel free to message me whenever! I’m also lf help with rping better! All pixel art used is credited here! Rp tracker/Finder! My Characters!
Art store: here
Formerly: | The-legendary-cowstar | Spider-Cow
Hello! Sometimes I'll be a little busy or get sick or not have access to my technology/Laptop so my apologies if I forget to reply or do something!
TickPaw was resting in the apprentice den, half-awake and drowsily batting a moss paw around. His mind a buzzing orchestra of worries and head resting on the plush moss nest underneath, stifling down a groan. He’d found more comfort in the apprentice den than he thought he would have and mother had started to eye him over his lack of training. He knew that it was most likely neither he nor his prey-cat mentor’s fault but, in all honesty, he still despised whoever mother despised. It was bad enough that TickPaw had missed his apprentice ceremony, been shouted at by mother and been barely out more than a whisker both Mother wise and mentor wise, but ontop of all that-. At the stray sound of his mentor’s voice his head perked up and his tail flicked from side to side, pushing his paws and abandoning the moss ball to roll away he sat up and gave his fur a few quick licks. Training? Battle training? Energy burst into his movement quicker than he could process the words and he perkily stalked over and rushed to his mentor’s side, and despite his obvious excitement offered a relaxed as he could reply. “I would be delighted to take the opportunity to get some battle training done, what sort of battle training would we be working on?” TickPaw knew there was more to battle than swiping your paws around, it was a whole game of sorts where there were rules you had to align to and moves you had to vary- opportunities for attacking and defense. He’d never been more excited for anything in his apprentice hood (which set the bar pretty low since he was only a few days into starting). Considering the fact that TickPaw had now energised himself around the idea of battle training he took whatever time he had standing still to compose himself, his mind was eager to bounce ahead but he’d watched cats who rush get squashed by another seeking the opportunity to squash them. Only prey-cats rushed ahead, and he was avoiding that at all costs as well as attention. He needed to avoid attention and slacking. Easy for anycat who wasn’t him. His paws scuffed over one another as he stared at NewtBelly, an idle motion where he tried to seem more like he was seeking out a response than staring out of a lack of other things to do.
Newtbelly he/him - Agatha Kitty - 15 moons
Tickpaw came running from the den almost instantly - he wasn't sure why he was so surprised by his enthusiasm. The paw's words always demonstrated how much he cared about progressing, but Newtbelly rarely saw him excited or energetic. Thinking about it, Tickpaw addressed his 'superiors' similarly to the way Newtbelly did (excluding Owlthroat, that is). Only, Tickpaw's speech was far move refined than Newtbelly could ever hope for his to be. The kid was strange, but, in a similar way to himself maybe? That said, Newtbelly wasn't really sure how to respond to being addressed in that manner. "I'd say we start with the basics?" The tom mustered an awkward smile, "we can figure what kind of approach you're drawn to and go from there?" Newtbelly's ear twitched - he'd learnt that lesson from his own training - his an Owlthroat's approaches were entirely different. If big burly Owlthroat had taught thoughtful and agile Newtbelly to attack with brute force, well, you can imagine what would happen. "Let's go over there," he pointed to a clear corner with his nose and scurried over. "Alright!" He mewled, taking a stance, "say you're already face to face with your enemy, how would you start?" Now they were getting into it, he felt far less awkward, after all, this was always his favourite kind of lesson as an apprentice. Coming up with interesting solutions and ideas in battle was his forte.
Tickpaw came running from the den almost instantly - he wasn't sure why he was so surprised by his enthusiasm. The paw's words always demonstrated how much he cared about progressing, but Newtbelly rarely saw him excited or energetic. Thinking about it, Tickpaw addressed his 'superiors' similarly to the way Newtbelly did (excluding Owlthroat, that is). Only, Tickpaw's speech was far move refined than Newtbelly could ever hope for his to be. The kid was strange, but, in a similar way to himself maybe? That said, Newtbelly wasn't really sure how to respond to being addressed in that manner. "I'd say we start with the basics?" The tom mustered an awkward smile, "we can figure what kind of approach you're drawn to and go from there?" Newtbelly's ear twitched - he'd learnt that lesson from his own training - his an Owlthroat's approaches were entirely different. If big burly Owlthroat had taught thoughtful and agile Newtbelly to attack with brute force, well, you can imagine what would happen. "Let's go over there," he pointed to a clear corner with his nose and scurried over. "Alright!" He mewled, taking a stance, "say you're already face to face with your enemy, how would you start?" Now they were getting into it, he felt far less awkward, after all, this was always his favourite kind of lesson as an apprentice. Coming up with interesting solutions and ideas in battle was his forte.
TickPaw blinked slowly, basics, of course that was to be expected it was always the basics- the foundation of everything so there was something to build off of. TickPaw flicked an ear, an idle movement with no more meaning than that, he soaked in the phrase “ approach your drawn to and start from there “. Again the basics but TickPaw couldn’t deny the bubbling excitement even at that. He was learning things at last and the rush was something he knew would be temporary considering the fact that overtime it would develop to be more tedious. He blinked at the corner and stalked after NewtBelly, movements careful as he watched his mentor attain a stance. TickPaw naturally attempted to copy the stance, simply to try move his mind into a state that focused on fighting rather than whatever it was focused on before. Mostly worrying. Tickpaw considered the question, it didn’t have a solid answer from what he knew (which was few) and there was a dozen ways to answer (which he did know). He didn’t waste time trying to pick out one and “go with it.” He went for something that he assumed would seem the least disappointing. He remembered watching mother attack someone, she was very brutal and forceful in battle and the sort of cat that strikes fear in the average prey-cat. But that was more ambush- and this was a situation where TickPaw was suddenly face to face. “I would start by aiming for their face or paws, I assume that’s one of the supposed weakpoints?” TickPaw swallowed, he didn’t want to sound like a tryhard, or like he knew too much. Questions might be raised for where he got that all from, and one could argue observation of their surroundings but any fights were usually never in the camp itself. Considering it logically, if his opponent was a full warrior they’d have significantly more knowledge than him and more size. TickPaw could remember struggling to catch up with Mother, how easy it id to get into smaller spaces when he was- well, smaller. And other things that kithood carried benefit wise. It was all relevant of course, he was looking for every instance he’s faced someone. “If i can manage the hit, I will put all my effort into tiring them out, or attacking.” that was a casual thing to say right? He was ‘casual and relaxed’. TickPaw shuddered, his stomach felt noticeably empty, he probably shouldn’t focus on his hunger in a fight. But this wasn’t a fight, it was training. But if he didn’t treat it like a fight he wouldn’t learn.”What about you, If I may ask, what would you do?” Tickpaw was curious, more to absorb. The downside of only having one cat teach him is the attack patterns form to become recognisable, he knew this from observing mother’s attack patterns, the way she strikes cats and attacks, as well as other methods used by typical cats. TickPaw shook any nerves away, focus.
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Heya! If you’re interested in rping feel free to message me whenever! I’m also lf help with rping better! All pixel art used is credited here! Rp tracker/Finder! My Characters!
Art store: here
Formerly: | The-legendary-cowstar | Spider-Cow
Hello! Sometimes I'll be a little busy or get sick or not have access to my technology/Laptop so my apologies if I forget to reply or do something!
“Hm..” Pondpaw let out a soft hum, her whiskers twitching thoughtfully. “You said you don’t know where your mentor went?”
The mackerel tabby’s eyes narrowed. “My mentor is Tuftedtusk, and he’s great. If you’d like, I can talk with him and Dawnstar about you training with us for the time being. Is that alright?”
TickPaw blinked slowly, basics, of course that was to be expected it was always the basics- the foundation of everything so there was something to build off of. TickPaw flicked an ear, an idle movement with no more meaning than that, he soaked in the phrase “ approach your drawn to and start from there “. Again the basics but TickPaw couldn’t deny the bubbling excitement even at that. He was learning things at last and the rush was something he knew would be temporary considering the fact that overtime it would develop to be more tedious. He blinked at the corner and stalked after NewtBelly, movements careful as he watched his mentor attain a stance. TickPaw naturally attempted to copy the stance, simply to try move his mind into a state that focused on fighting rather than whatever it was focused on before. Mostly worrying. Tickpaw considered the question, it didn’t have a solid answer from what he knew (which was few) and there was a dozen ways to answer (which he did know). He didn’t waste time trying to pick out one and “go with it.” He went for something that he assumed would seem the least disappointing. He remembered watching mother attack someone, she was very brutal and forceful in battle and the sort of cat that strikes fear in the average prey-cat. But that was more ambush- and this was a situation where TickPaw was suddenly face to face. “I would start by aiming for their face or paws, I assume that’s one of the supposed weakpoints?” TickPaw swallowed, he didn’t want to sound like a tryhard, or like he knew too much. Questions might be raised for where he got that all from, and one could argue observation of their surroundings but any fights were usually never in the camp itself. Considering it logically, if his opponent was a full warrior they’d have significantly more knowledge than him and more size. TickPaw could remember struggling to catch up with Mother, how easy it id to get into smaller spaces when he was- well, smaller. And other things that kithood carried benefit wise. It was all relevant of course, he was looking for every instance he’s faced someone. “If i can manage the hit, I will put all my effort into tiring them out, or attacking.” that was a casual thing to say right? He was ‘casual and relaxed’. TickPaw shuddered, his stomach felt noticeably empty, he probably shouldn’t focus on his hunger in a fight. But this wasn’t a fight, it was training. But if he didn’t treat it like a fight he wouldn’t learn.”What about you, If I may ask, what would you do?” Tickpaw was curious, more to absorb. The downside of only having one cat teach him is the attack patterns form to become recognisable, he knew this from observing mother’s attack patterns, the way she strikes cats and attacks, as well as other methods used by typical cats. TickPaw shook any nerves away, focus.
Newtbelly he/him - Agatha Kitty - 15 moons
Already thinking of weak points - the kid was smart, he'd expected as much. "That could definitely work!" He dipped his head, pausing "honesty, I've never thought about the paws, but the face is certainly a weak point. In a situation like this your opponent's pretty likely to dodge with ease: you're both out in the open and can see each other clearly." There wasn't anything to criticise - there wasn't much detail on how he would do it, but it was only his first lesson. "I'd probably do something similar, the face is always a good start" he smiled - more genuinely, less awkward than he'd been going in. "You wanna make sure you're not too exposed. The biggest weak points are the belly and the neck - they're harder to defend than the face. However, if you go straight to attacking those, you'll be more exposed." He caught himself rambling on, and hoped he wasn't dumping too much information too quickly, "uh - don't worry about remembering every little detail instantly of course! ... Anyway - all that considered, I'd start with a front paw strike." He demonstrated in the air, making sure to angle a little away from Tickpaw. He pressed his weight into his haunches, and ran forward, paw exploring outwards and down. "You'd aim for your opponent's face - well, in this situation at least. You can actually aim anywhere... And scratch downwards hard! Sure they might dodge it, but you've gotta start things off somehow! You wanna give it a try, in the air first? Then try attacking me when you're ready - erm - claws sheathed though." StarClan -- he hoped he wasn't rambling too much. Mentoring wasn't too bad, to be honest, he was kind of in his element with this.
Already thinking of weak points - the kid was smart, he'd expected as much. "That could definitely work!" He dipped his head, pausing "honesty, I've never thought about the paws, but the face is certainly a weak point. In a situation like this your opponent's pretty likely to dodge with ease: you're both out in the open and can see each other clearly." There wasn't anything to criticise - there wasn't much detail on how he would do it, but it was only his first lesson. "I'd probably do something similar, the face is always a good start" he smiled - more genuinely, less awkward than he'd been going in. "You wanna make sure you're not too exposed. The biggest weak points are the belly and the neck - they're harder to defend than the face. However, if you go straight to attacking those, you'll be more exposed." He caught himself rambling on, and hoped he wasn't dumping too much information too quickly, "uh - don't worry about remembering every little detail instantly of course! ... Anyway - all that considered, I'd start with a front paw strike." He demonstrated in the air, making sure to angle a little away from Tickpaw. He pressed his weight into his haunches, and ran forward, paw exploring outwards and down. "You'd aim for your opponent's face - well, in this situation at least. You can actually aim anywhere... And scratch downwards hard! Sure they might dodge it, but you've gotta start things off somehow! You wanna give it a try, in the air first? Then try attacking me when you're ready - erm - claws sheathed though." StarClan -- he hoped he wasn't rambling too much. Mentoring wasn't too bad, to be honest, he was kind of in his element with this.
TickPaw at first was tensed incase some demonstration was going to be given of something, instead he was faced with rambling of things he needed to know and advice, useful information from his mentor- he assumed he ought to soak this in and so that’s what he did, hearing that the face was in fact a weakpoint was nice to hear, it meant he’d done something right. “In a situation like this your opponent is pretty likely to dodge with ease.” TickPaw considered that information, what was the situation exactly? Tickpaw understood this was what battle was at its core element- working off a small amount of information and building your way to victory. But knowing that was something out in the open helped slot Tickpaw’s mental memory into the right place, and slot that question into context. Dodging with ease is something that TickPaw was okay at, he wasn’t the lightest on his paws but he could catch up quicker than one would expect him to. TickPaw also considered the fact that he was being told the weak-points. The belly and the neck, harder to defend but bad to go straight for as a first attack in a fight. TickPaw held that information tight and close as if it was more than just words, he needed every scrap of advice on this he could if he was to both impress mother and finish training actually learning things. TickPaw perked from his deep state of mind, caught in staring and mentally soaking things into his mind until he couldn’t anymore. A move? Tickpaw slid through the name for some inch of familiarity but came to only mentions or supposed sights. A front paw strike. He watched the sudden movement and slid to the side- out of the way completely- just incase his mentor slipped up the move. His eyes hadn’t caught it quick enough but what he did catch he’d squeezed into the sponge that was his brain. Scratch downwards hard and try in the air first, likely it’s dodged. TickPaw offered a curt nod of acknowledgment and tried to mimic what he’d seen, tensing he threw his paw forward and performed the run forward, swiping his claws downward and hard- he couldn’t help but feel a flash of shame. He doubted that was right, maybe he should do it again, just incase? He tried again just to get “a feel” for it. And now he was supposed to attack his mentor, claws sheathed. Tickpaw sheathed his claws and repeated the move, this attempt he didn’t hold back effort wise maybe because he didn’t subconsciously feel a need to, although whether it wasn’t guaranteed whether it hit or not especially since it wasn’t in his control as his paws fumbled. As long as his paws were sheathed it was alright.
Judt to let you know this will be my last response for this for a little bit since im going to sleep please let me know if there’s anything wrong with this post!!
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Re: ShadowClan Clearing
Re: ShadowClan Clearing
Re: ShadowClan Clearing
please let me know if there’s anything wrong with this post!!
