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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Sept 5, 2008 17:28:35 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] "Here we are."
Rough pads crunched down on dried leaves that had fallen in the advent of a powerful storm that had whipped through earlier in the week. Patriotcross noticed that more trees had fallen, and considering the wind speed and the trees' ages, he didn't doubt the power.
The tom stretched himself out, all the way down to his claws. He put on a gruff, stern expression and looked down at Briarpaw. "Alright, fall into position." He wanted to see if Briarpaw had paid attention and learned things as a kit. If she had, what things were they? He knew an error in training was forcing a style on a cat who's natural style was something totally different.
The unkempt hair of the male seemed to have gotten more dirty in the time it took to walk from camp to the Hollow Oak. Speaking of Hollow, he wondered if the badger was here. He'd enjoy seeing Briarpaw spar against a badger.
ooc;// Do you remember Hollow, the badger cub that Aurora saved like...back when Grainpelt was a kit? Yeaaaah, I'll have him fighting Briarpaw :] |
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Post by KURI. (happy birfday to me :D) on Sept 10, 2008 14:44:33 GMT -5
ooc* Hollow! Yaaaay. :]
Briarpaw was surprisingly enthusiastic today. She swatted at every leaf she came by, as practice for her training session. Who needed hunting and - ugh - patrolling? Okay, well, hunting was important, but she'd much rather spar than have to go through all that boring crouch-hunt-pounce stuff. When they reached their destination she didn't pause, easily missing all the natural beauty around her. Not that Briarpaw cared about that stuff in the first place.
'Into position'? What did that mean? She stiffled a sigh as she shifted into what she had seen some of the apprentices practicing outside their den. She didn't seem to know that she was actually in the hunter's crouch, but she was sure she had it wrong anyway. "How's this?" she asked, waving her small tail in the air. What was Patriotcross looking for? [/blockquote]
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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Sept 10, 2008 15:26:22 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] Patriotcross walked behind Briarpaw and pushed her rear-end down with a paw. Then he came alongside her and crouched. "Your most important feature will be your hindlegs, since they control how you move. Speed, turning, power. All of that is dictated with your hindlegs." He demonstrated for her a lunge by using his massive hindlegs as coordination and slashed powerfully into the nearby log, ripping a lot of bark off impressively. Then he demonstated a lunge by using his front legs, promptly crashing down.
"Your front legs are where your attacks are based mostly off of. You saw how I ripped a new tally into that wood? We're going to work on lunging attacks." Patriotcross walked over to where Briarpaw could see and lunged into the crouching position. "This is what we'll practice first. First you lunge"--he leapt forward--"and then swing." He swatted the log again, raking into it once more. "Give it a try." |
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Post by KURI. (happy birfday to me :D) on Sept 14, 2008 16:15:45 GMT -5
Briarpaw was both confidant and eager, which, for her, was not a good combination. Barely thinking about how little her claws were right now, she lunged out at the log, and instad of just raking the side of it as her mentor had done she dug her claws into the bark; as she did there was a faint snapping sound as one of her claws snagged on a groove in the wood. She spat, recoiling her injured paw and licking it vigorously, her gray and white fur puffed up in anger.
"Stupid, stupid log!" she hissed, in a bad mood once more. She curled her upper lip as she tasted blood where the claw had broken, close enough to the base to cause the new apprentice a good amount of pain. Lashing her tail and scarcely in the mood for training, she was about to open her mouth to complain when a forest-tainted scent reached her nostrils.
"What's that?" she inquired, a thin trail of blood trickling down her white paw. [/blockquote] |
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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Sept 16, 2008 22:06:04 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] "Bleeding already, Briarpaw? We've barely begun!" Patriotcross roared in laughter, shaking his head. The tom crouched down by her and stared down at her paw. "Don't get frustrated, little miss. That wound is nothing compared to a battle scar. You'll be proud of your injuries by the time Ghostlystar calls out your warrior name." He grinned in a lopsided fashion, his smile marred a bit by a scar on his face.
He paused to listen to her as she spoke, blinking a bit. "Oh that?" A smirk creased his face. "Don't mean to tell me you're scared of some old badger, hey?" |
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Post by KURI. (happy birfday to me :D) on Sept 18, 2008 6:48:14 GMT -5
Briarpaw smiled, thinking about what it would be like to be covered in scars like her mentor, memoires of past battles. The pulsing in her paw had almost stopped, though she still held it gingerly, making much more of the little injury than was necissary. "I'm not scared!" she protested, though her tail refused to comply as she tried to keep her fur from puffing up. Badger. The word itself was odd, strange, new. But still, she had heard of them: vicious beasts that ripped through the walls of the strongest, most fortified den with one swing of their claws. White-striped demons who ate kits right in the middle of the camp. She forced back a shiver.
"So what're we gonna do? Are we gonna drive off the b... badger or what?" she tried to sound feirce, but that one little stammer threw that off. She shook herself, her claw almost completely forgotten. [/blockquote] |
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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Sept 18, 2008 9:18:30 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] "Not drive him back, per se, simply use him as a resource. Your father hasn't told you about Hollow?" Patriotcross said, his grin almost sadistic now. The large tom crouched down by Briarpaw, smirking slightly.
"This badger was abandoned as a cub and rescued by a cat named Aurora; it ended up befriending two kits, Grainkit and Ryekit. Both were adventurous and courageous boys, and they quickly got over the fact that this creature was dangerous."
Patriotcross thumped his paws down heavily. "This badger speaks our tongue, and he has grown to have his territory encompass all of BrightClan, but he frequents here as his densite." He cackled out loud.
"You'll be fighting against him someday, but not now. You're too young." |
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Post by KURI. (happy birfday to me :D) on Sept 20, 2008 15:40:37 GMT -5
"My dad was friends with a badger?" her tone was half appaled, half amazed. A badger who could understand what they were saying? Wasn't that... impossible? She blinked, pursing her lips. They must be mistaken. There's no way... that a badger... Her delicate train of thought was broken, however, as Patriotcross' voice boomed behind her. She bit back a hiss as she turned around to face him, green eyes sharp. "I'm not too young!" It was a perfect example of talking without thinking. Sitting down on her hind legs, she drew a line in the dirt with a claw that wasn't broken..
"Okay, maybe I am," she admitted in a mutter. "But you have to promise that one day you will let me fight that badger!" [/blockquote] |
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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Sept 21, 2008 18:28:50 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] He boomed out in laughter. "Oh, of course. One day, little miss, one day. You'll have to ask Grainpelt about Hollow. Your grandpa Runespell'd probably know about him too, since he was there when Aurora rescued him. That was about...hmm...forty moons ago, quite a while." The wiry-haired tom shook his pelt and looked down at Briarpaw.
"Is that injury going to make you useless or are you ready to fight again. I think we'll tussle together instead of going after that log this time." |
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Post by KURI. (happy birfday to me :D) on Oct 9, 2008 19:53:58 GMT -5
Briarpaw nodded, scrunching up her face. Was her father really that old? She was six moons old... and six tens was sixty... but fourty was... The gray-and-white she-cat frowned. Who cared about numbers, anyway? Being a warrior was about fighting. She nodded to her mentor and moved a few paces away from him, lashing her tail to show she was ready. As one could see with how quickly she gave up on figuring out how old her father was compared to her, concentration was not her best feature. Briarpaw was impulsive, quick-thinking, and, if she needed to be, loud.
"So, are we gonna fight, or what?" she asked, suddenly overconfident. Patriotcross was old! She could take him on... [/blockquote] |
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Post by (aurora) of the problematique on Oct 9, 2008 20:13:37 GMT -5
Patriotcross ;;
Live life the master of my destiny
See no other way to live[/center] [/i][/size] A toothy smile curled the lips of the massive tom. "Since you're so eager, fine," he said.
"Position yourself as if I'm the log. If your opponent is bigger than you, you'll need to outwit them while you're battering them down. That means going for the legs, nose, and eyes while you're running circles around their slow movements." The wiry-haired tom crouched down and lunged for Briarpaw with a "threatening" growl, aiming a powerful clawless swing for her face.
"Big cats like myself are like trees. The bigger they are...the harder they fall." The tomcat grinned. "But don't get cocky, the bigger they are, the harder it is for the smaller cat to recover if they get hit." He didn't make himself an |
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