Paleshadow's placed her paws upon the precipice, head inclined to squint through the sparse rain. It felt like these days the rain grew shorter, though more frequent, and the plants bloomed from patches of shallow soil that were once desolate of life, devoid. Now the world unfurled in lush reverie, welcoming the once-starved prey and predator alike in it's arms. A kind, hospitable cradle. A season of bountiful prey and ripe herbs on the horizon as the world crested from newleaf to greenleaf and the sun scorched down and the rivers rolled, ambled by, clean of meltwater and instead fattened with the greenleaf rains.
Birdsong. Her favourite sound. Tangled with the soft pitter-pattering of raindrops, it staged a melody on the flat stones lining the riverbank, melted with the whispering babble of the river. It crafted a language spoken only by nature itself, like a passing conversation where only fragments fall into place. Paleshadow closed her eyes, breathing softly through her nose. There was nothing here to worry about. No- here, the lithe she-cat was free of WindClan's sharp claws and the leader's lethal tongue. She was free of the crooked grins of the shaded warriors of the pine forests, cloaked in shadow as thick as mist. Free of her woes, her wants, and her wishes. Free of her shackles. Free of her fear. She felt free, undeniably, but incompletely. Free as a bird with clipped wings, gliding from the unlatched cage. Free as one in illusion. False freedom.
But it's something nonetheless, and she clung to it.
She dug her claws into freedom, however fleeting, and held on. She had to chase that feeling, run after it with as much grace and poise as the wind. Following it with as much ease as the air filled her lungs. The freedom to chose. The freedom to exist. The freedom to be. Losing it was her worst fear. Having it was horrifying enough. She didn't need more things to fear. She was afraid- so afraid -of everything as it was.
So, there the pale she-cat stood, on the river's bank, staring out over the rolling fields. She watched the amaranth, wild grasses and their tall seed stalks, and river weeds sway lazily in the wind, raindrops collecting on their peaks and rolling down their stems. It was eternity. It was peace.
"Alright, Wrennie," Waterworm says cheerfully as he leads the grey apprentice out into the territory (he didn't exactly ask her if she wanted him to help with her training, but hey, Wormy didn't really feel like giving her the choice today), a smile on his face and his tail raised high cheerfully.
"I was thinking that it would be so cool to run a few battle moves by you! Yaknow, teach you all old Wormy knows so you can hit those nasties in the other clans with all ya got!" He turned to grin at the scowling apprentice and lowered himself into a battle crouch before continuing to prattle on. This here is what we warriors call a battle crouch!! Not too low and not too high and not too wide!! Tail out behind you for balance or, depending on necessity, you can also tuck it down and under you like this!" He demonstrates, moving his tail so it's tucked under him now.
"Once ya've got that stance done and good we can do some jabs!! They're basically like... quick movements with your paws!! Ya gotta aim for the shoulders or the legs or even the face! Face is good 'cause most cats'll flinch and you can use that moment real good to your advantage! Go ahead and do that crouch and try a jab on me!!" He instructs, grinning still at Wrenpaw.
Wrenpaw
~<>~
72/100
10 moons || she/her || RiverClan Apprentice || Silver Tongue medium furred silver smoke she-cat; blue eyes
Oh the horror of this interaction... Why did Wrenpaw even allow herself to be dragged out into this situation??? After that territory tour and awful fishing lesson she'd thought she'd seen enough of Waterworm, but nooooooo, he had to drag her out for more training and Wren really couldn't find an excuse to slip away. Training was training, as she'd always said, no matter where it came from.
"Don't call me 'Wrennie'," the silver feline snaps at the nickname, but quickly calms down again when the actual instructions begin happening. A battle crouch... ok, not too complicated looking. "Like this?" She asks, getting into her position.
[ roll: 14 - success ]
The pose seems almost natural to her, and Wren slides into what is comfortable, legs bent slightly and a good distance apart, tail down and behind her for balance. It feels sturdy. Glancing to the warrior for confirmation, Wren is satisfied when Waterworm nods in approval and urges her to try the jab next - Wren's eager for that as well.
[ wren roll: 17 // worm roll: 10 - wren success ]
For just a second Wrenpaw debates where she's going to jab, and then ultimately goes with the face. Even if Watereworm were expecting it, there's still a good chance that he'll flinch back, and that's what she's counting on. Striking hard and fast, Wrenpaw darts out her paw towards the warrior's face and grins when he flinches, using that moment to dart around to the side of him and slam against his side while he's off balance - a move no one taught her, but one she thought should be effective anyway.
As she's hoped, the warrior loses his balance and tumbles to the forest floor, and Wren springs over and pins him to the ground, her large paws pressing in firmly to hold him in place.
"How's that?" She asks, grinning, "I learn better through doing, so let's keep sparring!" She doesn't really give much choice to deny, but Waterworm strikes Wren as a cat who'll go with the flow and do whatever was asked of him. Still, she doesn't move and awaits his next strike.
Oh, so this was turning into a sparring session, now, huh? Ok! Not a problem, Waterworm can work with that!
"Sparring, then!" He agrees, and uses his slightly larger size to push the apprentice off of him. Wrenpaw releases her hold seemingly reluctantly, and Waterworm crouches low to the ground, approaching at a fast run before springing into the air to tackle her.
[ worm roll: 13 // wren roll: 3 - worm success ]
His move is successful and catches the silver molly off her guard, making the two of them tumble over each other, the apprentice's paws scrambling for purchase in ginger fur, but Waterworm simply kicks her legs out from under her while she's struggling and sends her sprawling to the forest floor. He quickly makes an attempt to pin her down.
Wrenpaw
~<>~
74/100
10 moons || she/her || RiverClan Apprentice || Silver Tongue medium furred silver smoke she-cat; blue eyes
Pleasingly, Waterworm was amenable to the idea of sparring instead of formal practice and retaliated almost immediately, pushing her off of himself and sending them both into a tumble. Wren tried to scramble for purchase in his fur, but she couldn't manage to do so and was overpowered decently quickly. As she's pinned down now, Wren quickly thinks up the best course of action to free herself and starts kicking at Waterworm's stomach.
[ wren roll: 18 // worm roll: 16 - wren success ]
Successfully, the silver feline managed to push the warrior off of her and springs to her paws, leaping into action to try another forward jab at his face. Amazingly, Waterworm flinches again, and Wrenpaw uses that to sweep his legs out from under him, sending the warrior sprawling to the ground with a winded "oof!" Satisfied, the apprentice smirks and takes a seat, declaring the sparring session a success.
"Well! That was fun!" She announces, lifting up a paw to groom her face almost in disinterest. "Thanks for the help or whatever, all I've got to do now is find someone to handle my assessment..." It's exciting, and a little disappointing, too. She wanted to get a water battle training session underway, but it took so long to even get one warrior to commit to battle training with her that she figures it'll have to wait. "We can go back to camp now," Wren announces and gets to her feet, waiting for the warrior to begin guiding her back.
"I could do your assessment!" Waterworm suggests, pulling himself to his feet with a dramatic shake of his long pelt and completely missing the way the apprentice looks at him with disgust. "Anyway! Let's get going back to camp!" He says and leads the way.
Paleshadow's placed her paws upon the precipice, head inclined to squint through the sparse rain. It felt like these days the rain grew shorter, though more frequent, and the plants bloomed from patches of shallow soil that were once desolate of life, devoid. Now the world unfurled in lush reverie, welcoming the once-starved prey and predator alike in it's arms. A kind, hospitable cradle. A season of bountiful prey and ripe herbs on the horizon as the world crested from newleaf to greenleaf and the sun scorched down and the rivers rolled, ambled by, clean of meltwater and instead fattened with the greenleaf rains.
Birdsong. Her favourite sound. Tangled with the soft pitter-pattering of raindrops, it staged a melody on the flat stones lining the riverbank, melted with the whispering babble of the river. It crafted a language spoken only by nature itself, like a passing conversation where only fragments fall into place. Paleshadow closed her eyes, breathing softly through her nose. There was nothing here to worry about. No- here, the lithe she-cat was free of WindClan's sharp claws and the leader's lethal tongue. She was free of the crooked grins of the shaded warriors of the pine forests, cloaked in shadow as thick as mist. Free of her woes, her wants, and her wishes. Free of her shackles. Free of her fear. She felt free, undeniably, but incompletely. Free as a bird with clipped wings, gliding from the unlatched cage. Free as one in illusion. False freedom.
But it's something nonetheless, and she clung to it.
She dug her claws into freedom, however fleeting, and held on. She had to chase that feeling, run after it with as much grace and poise as the wind. Following it with as much ease as the air filled her lungs. The freedom to chose. The freedom to exist. The freedom to be. Losing it was her worst fear. Having it was horrifying enough. She didn't need more things to fear. She was afraid- so afraid -of everything as it was.
So, there the pale she-cat stood, on the river's bank, staring out over the rolling fields. She watched the amaranth, wild grasses and their tall seed stalks, and river weeds sway lazily in the wind, raindrops collecting on their peaks and rolling down their stems. It was eternity. It was peace.
And for this brief moment, it was hers.
Wrenpaw
~<>~
76/100
10 moons || she/her || RiverClan Apprentice || Silver Tongue medium furred silver smoke she-cat; blue eyes
As Waterworm began leading her back to camp, Wrenpaw caught sight and scent of another warrior out and about. Now, Wren wasn't exactly the type to approach anyone all friendly-like, but watching the molly stand at the river bank just sort of... looking at it, piqued her interest. It wasn't a difficult choice to make to slip away from Waterworm, and it wasn't even that hard either, the warrior just kept prattling on and on and didn't even turn back to look at her when she stopped following.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath to the ginger tom's retreating back before heading in the direction of the other warrior - Paleshadow if she remembers correctly, she's never been great at names and faces. Regardless of if she's right or not, Wren approaches from behind and slightly to the side, making sure to brush against the tall grass and reeds so she doesn't surprise the warrior too badly.
"What're you doing?" She questions, though if it comes out sounding a little more of a demand that's not her problem. Policing her tone isn't something Wren finds herself particularly gifted in. "Is looking at the river really so interesting?" She wrinkles her nose at that. It's just the river... it isn't like they'll never see it again so why look at it with such a longing expression..?
"Thank you both for joining me out here," Fadingsun said, glancing back over his shoulder. "I've been thinking lately that it won't hurt us to have some defensive traps lying around. Even if we don't get invaded, they can help deter predators and courageous outsiders."
As they walked, Fadingsun debated whether he should stick with just the one trap he had in mind, or see about creating some different ones. Maybe just keeping it simple for now was best. After all, if they covered their entire territory with traps, their own would probably start falling into them.
Eventually, they reached the bundle of long, but thin enough to snap, sticks that he'd collected. "My idea is to break these sticks into pieces. We'll stick one end in the ground, and leave a sharp end sticking out. If a cat were to step on one, they'll cut their paw or possibly even get some splinters. It'll make walking and running harder, which in turn will hopefully make combat harder."
He grabbed a stick and rested it against a nearby rock. With a slam of his paw, he split the thing in two. A couple of splinters shot out from the stick, causing him to wince. "Be careful of flying splinters when you do this."
Pushing the two pieces to the side, he grabbed a stick and set it down against the rock, prepping to do the same thing again. "Let's get all these sticks split, then we'll set these traps around the territory."
__________________
Fadingstar is currently RiverClan's leader. He has an open den policy; please post at the abandoned den and tag me! If you have any questions or concerns about RiverClan, or any plots to propose, feel free to leave me a VM or DM! Please do not take my characters' IC opinions as reflective of my own.
Duskleaf watched Fadingsun’s demonstration of how to make the traps. It did seem like an interesting battle strategy and could catch WindClan off guard if they did try to attack, if traps had been used before, he hadn’t heard of it. Duskleaf lifted a few sticks and found a rock to put them on.
[Yes I used a dice for this, Duskleaf rolls an 88 for snapping the sticks]
Duskleaf brought his paw down upon one of the sticks in a rapid motion, quickly pulling it away again to avoid the splinters flying out of it. As he was snapping the sticks, an idea hit him. "What if we put some of the traps in long grass, so that if they try to use it for cover, they’ll fall right into the trap?"
When Owltalon was being invited out here, the last thing she had suspected was traps. Huh. It was a pretty good idea actually. Owltalon just hoped that no disobedient kits or young apprentices accidentally stumbled on the sharp sticks. Owltalon put a stick into her jaw and began padding off with it, to the stone that Fadingsun had used. At the suggestion Duskleaf had offered, Owltalon couldn't help but smile at the two of them. "Well aren't cha guys just a buncha creative chaps? My brains been a bit foggy as of late, maybe the lack of sleep's finally gettin' to me." The Lionheart murmured the last part. She didn't wanna shift the conversation into a worrisome one. Plus, she was fine! Never felt better.
She kneeled the stick against the rock, it's thin body trembling in the wind. In a quick snap, she slapped her paw on it, flinching back as splitters flew. "I mean, these could be useful for predators as well, just think! A fox comes in but oh no! Splinters!" A deep laugh within her belly echoed through her throat. "It would be nice, ya know?"
The Lionheart trailed off as she grabbed another stick from the pile. She once again repeated the process. Lean. Raise. Slam. Flinch. "We're puttin' these just around the borders, yeah?"