It's time for b-b-b-b-battle training!

Summer rain dripped off leaves above the ThunderClan camp. The familiar whistles and chirps of birds in the high canopy were a comforting sound as the sun shone down into the middle of the ravine. Bathing the cats there in warmth. The idyllic peace was a nice reprieve from the past week of stress and worry.

There was even less of a reason to worry, as Marshstorm stood up from where he was enjoying a mouse. His jaws parting in a brief yawn as the sleepiness of being awake from early dawn sank in. Still, he had a job to do. He turned his head towards the apprentices den. Nettlepaw should be awake by now. He padded over to the entrance and poked his head in.

"Nettlepaw. It’s time for your training." He called into the largely empty space. He pulled his head out and stretched his limbs as he glanced towards the medicine den. His ears flicking as he felt a pang of concern over Leopardstar.

Nettlepaw popped up as soon as she heard her father say her name, clearly having been awake for a while. She hadn't slept much, but she wasn't really tired-- her excitement was fueling her more than even a good night's sleep could. She stretched out quickly and walked over to her father, eager to begin training.

"I'm ready!" She said enthusiastically, her tail waving back and forth. She looked up at her father, her eyes bright. Her singular focus since her ceremony was doing all she could to be the best apprentice, and someday, the best warrior, she could be. And right now to her that meant training as hard as she could. "What are we practicing first?

He chuckled softly at his daughter’s excitement. His head lowered as they passed through the tunnel entrance of camp to the soft sandy clearing just beyond. He brushed up some of the sand with his paw, noting that there was a bit more than there used to be. Perhaps the water had carried down more sand and helped in that way. The only useful thing the floods did.

"Today, you’re going to learn some basic defence." Marshstorm told her as he padded to the middle of the sand, then stopped. Turning to face her. "I would normally wait, but with a fox having been seen recently, you need to be trained for this more than anything." His pelt prickled at the thought of his daughter facing something as vicious and cruel as an uncaring fox.

He ignored the crawling of unease up his spine.
"Tell me, what would you do if an enemy warrior pinned you, versus what you would do if a predator did?" He asked, curious to hear what she might have picked up in camp from the numerous tales of bravado and skill.

Nettlepaw thought for a moment, trying to figure out if she'd heard someone mention the answer.

"I'm not sure," she finally admitted. She didn't want to lie and act like she knew the answer, but Nettlepaw couldn't help feeling like she'd already failed her first test. Oh well; she'd just have to work even harder to make up for it. She tried to think again, hoping to at least offer something more. She tried to piece together things she remembered warriors saying around camp.

"But, hm--" she thought aloud. "I, uh-- I'm sure predators have a tendency to be more vicious and less predictable, so-- maybe strategies like playing dead are less effective?" She ventured, hoping she was at least partially right.

Marshstorm smiled at his daughter as she tried to think of the answer. His kind smile unfading as she slowly worked one out. It was an intelligent answer, and he nodded immediately in approval.
"Warriors are trained to stop the fight when our opponents are defeated. A true warrior, will never kill unless it is a predator in defence of clan and kin." He answered calmly.

He stood on his paws. The white tips sinking into the sand.
"When a predator attacks, it’s important to attack their weak spots. A good one is their backs, were they can’t reach. In a pinch, you can swipe for the eyes or nose, but you will be facing the teeth or a beak." He spread his paws out in the sand, body lowered towards the ground. "Now then, if I were a badger, what would you do?"

The sand kicked up from his paws as he made lumbering comical paces around in a circle, eyes narrowed as though to attack. A clearly fake growl leaving his throat, barely hiding laughter at how ridiculous he probably looked.

Nettlepaw allowed herself to giggle a little at Marshstorm's badger impression, but for the most part she tried to remain entirely serious about the exercise. She dropped into a little crouch and began to circle around along with Marshstorm.

"If the back's the weak point, I assume I should try to dodge and maneuver until I can reach it?" she asked confidently.

His tail flicked as he looked over at Nettlepaw.
"Well then, what are you waiting for?" He asked, then made a slow lumbering attempt at a charge. Front paws extending as if to knock Nettlepaw down as he watched his daughter circle around him. He threw his larger, bulky body’s weight towards cutting her off. More intelligently than a real badger, but if she was prepared for a smart badger, than a clumsy one would be easier to handle.

Nettlepaw did a little dodge-and-loop as Marshstorm moved to cut her off, then jumped a little between her paws, maneuvering around a little.

What am I waiting for? she thought to herself, and got ready to put her suggestion into practice. She move a little closer to father, trying to get in a position where she could accurately leap over and grab his back. Moving into what she thought was a pose that would work, Nettlepaw took the jump.

Being quite a bit smaller than her father, and not having attempted the move before, Nettlepaw wasn't quite able to grab and stay on, but did manage to land her front to paws on her father's back.

"Ah," she said, disappointed. ""I missed..."

Marshstorm waited for Nettlepaw’s lunge. Watching from the corner of his eyes as she managed to skim her front paws over him, but couldn’t really latch on. He shook his pelt out and growled playfully once more, stepping forward with his amber eyes still bright.

"Go ahead and try again. Think of a pelt like you’d think of a moss covered log. It’s slippery and hard to connect to. You need to analyze a good point to put your balance. Find a larger spot then the middle." He paused, flicking his tail to gesture towards his shoulders. "A badger has a much wider body than mine, but an enemy cat will be in similar shape. Rather than aiming for the middle, try to grab my shoulders or hips. Those are the widest parts of an enemy cat, and the easiest grappled. They can also knock one off balance."

After his explanation, he fluffed out his chest. Face grimacing in fake malice as his ears flattened.
"Grrrrrr… I’m a stagclan cat." He declared as he bounded forward to swat at her shoulders with a sheathed paw. The blow was light, with no real intent except to push her into trying again.

Nettlepaw nodded with a focused intensity, determined to succeed this time. Adjusting her posture, she tried again, making sure to heed her father's advice and treat the jump as if she were landing on a slippery log, and aiming more for the shoulders.

This time, she found her grip much more easily. She slid for a moment, slightly off balance, but adjusted quickly and managed to keep from slipping. She made sure she was able to hold on for a few moments before jumping down, voluntarily this time.

"I did it!" she said excitedly once she got back on the ground. "I wish I'd gotten it the first time, too, but I did it!"

The impact of his daughter’s fluffy grey body onto his broad shoulders made him sink down a little on reflex. His body trying to disbalance and let her roll off. Her felt her claws through his pelt, and smiled as he straightened up. Feeling her springing off his back and back to the ground with pride.
"Well done, Nettlepaw!" He congratulated her with a purr. "That was a perfectly executed grapple. Now, when you combine that with the speed of running, you can use it to bowl your opponents over by unbalancing them."

"Now we should teach you the basics of a front paw strike. I know you’ve done your share of kit batting as a youngster in the nest." His eyes crinkled with amusement as he padded around the clearing for a moment. Finally, he found what he was looking for. A good, sturdy tree that was large enough for practicing on, but smooth enough not to cut their paw-pads. He called her over with a flick of his tail. Lifting his paw, he raked a powerful blow against the trunk of it, leaving a score of deep claw-marks.
"Go ahead and practice your front paw strikes. I will correct you as you do them."

Nettlepaw nodded dutifully and approached the tree. She raised her paw and did her best to copy her father's motion, slicing her claws across the surface of the tree.

Her first few attempts were much cleaner than her first attempt at jumping had been, the motion being a little more natural and instinctual and, yes, having been "practiced" via play fights during kithood. She briefly noted the image of her series of smaller claw marks next to the much deeper one left by Marshstorm, and smiled a little, thinking again about how grateful she was to be able to train alongside her father, before resuming her practice strikes, which were gradually getting better with each motion.

Marshstorm smiled at each strike. None of them seemed particularly deep, but it was hardly surprising. She was a young apprentice yet, and with plenty of growing to do, and a deadly aim, she would be a fierce warrior when she grew older. He purred at the thought and reached up to stop her from striking again. Looking at the scored bark with satisfaction.

"Easy now. You’ve definitely got that down. Don’t worry about the depth of your marks, you’re still growing after all, and your claws will be plenty big enough in time." He settled his paw down onto the ground with a smile.

"Now, we’re going to change it up. I’m going to ‘attack’ you, and I want you to do everything you can to dodge." He explained as he stepped back a couple paces to give her a chance to prepare. "You’re allowed to try ‘attacking’ me, but you could be faced with a large opponent. When that happens, you need to prioritize dodging over being heroic. I don’t want you joining StarClan because you were over confident."

He gave her a small, indulgent smile before launching himself towards her. Paws outstretched to swipe at her with sheathed claws.

Though it was only a training scenario, Nettlepaw tried to approach the "attack" as if it were real. She made her best effort to duck down and away from her father's swipes. Though her natural instinct was to go on the offense in this kind of situation, to fight back as much as possible, she followed her father's advice and focused on trying to dodge. Her smaller size, in this situation, helped her, but as she was significantly less experience, that could only do so much for her.

Eventually, the small gray she-cat did attempt to make an offensive attack. She jumped forward with her paws outstretched and claws sheathed, trying to make contact with her father's shoulder, and then attempted to hop back again before she could be 'caught'. She stumbled a little bit on the back-jump, but managed to fairly quickly regain her footing.

He aimed for the easy blows. Broadcasting his swipes and bites with obvious intention to start with, but slowly reducing the amount of clues he was giving. Nettlepaw seemed to be taking to the training easily as she dodged, and even landed a small hit on his shoulders. He smiled at her improvement, then glanced up at the sky.

The sun was much higher than when they had started. He nodded in approval and looked down at Nettlepaw.
"Good work today. We’ll stop here, you need a rest and we need to work on your hunting early tomorrow." He meowed, padding over to her and gesturing to follow him. "I want you to practice this in camp, but for now, you should help the other apprentices with the other chores. You’ll need to gather some moss, Mosspaw will show you how. After, you eat something from the freshkill pile."