You couldn't kill me if you wanted to

Bloodstrike had asked for Dawnhawk and Copperpaw to follow him out to Half-Stone. His two sons obediently followed. Bloodstrike had been unable to locate Smokefeather, but he had told one of the warriors at camp where they would be going if she went looking for her apprentice. She was invited to come if she wanted. Snow had fallen across the ground, thankfully only a few inches. As Bloodstrike neared half-stone, he looked back at his two sons trailing behind him. Copperpaw was an odd mix of white and red, making him look like a flaming creature moving across the white landscape. Dawnhawk on the other hand looked like he belonged to the snowy world they lived in. The sun had barely poked up over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the snow. For once, his bright-pelted son could easily hide if he wanted to. Even his eyes matched the blue of the sky.

"Copperpaw," Bloodstrike spoke softly. His younger son perked his head up and skittered on short legs closer toward his dad and looked up, but Copperpaw's voice still hadn't returned to him. It worried Bloodstrike. The fox attack had been weeks ago... They still haven't found One Ear, but the large dark tabby intended to if it was the last thing that he did. "I want all of us to practice fighting the way Skyclan cats are meant to... from the trees. Your brother will assist you until your mother arrives, if she wants to. Your opponent will be me. Alright?" Bloodstrike hoped he'd hear even a squeak come out of Copperpaw's mouth, but the apprentice's eyes widened slightly before he nodded once. With a sigh, Bloodstrike's attention turned to Dawnhawk. The younger tom's pale form had muscled up significantly in a rather short amount of time. Bloodstrike didn't know where Dawnhawk had gotten the muscle mass, but he knew that this youth couldn't possibly know how to use it efficiently. Perhaps he had taken after his father more than he realized, but would it complicate his ability to fight in the trees? Bloodstrike was going to find out.

"I hope your new muscles haven't gone to your head, Dawnhawk." Bloodstrike said, nodding at his thickened legs. The pale tom smirked at him. "Not any more than yours, I'm sure." Came his swift reply, voice as smooth as ever. With that, the three toms picked their trees to climb. Dawnhawk and Bloodstrike climbed their stripped pines fairly easily and at about the same time. Copperpaw scrabbled up a little more, taking a tree limb just beside Dawnhawk's.

"Copperpaw, listen to your brother's instructions. Begin!" Bloodstrike bent his knees and elbows on his branch, ready to answer or dodge an attack from either of his sons. "Flank him," Dawnhawk's order came swiftly, his normally smooth, honey-like voice now cut through the air like a cold dagger. He leaped to his right onto another pine branch, bare of needles from the fires still. Copperpaw leaped to his left, both toms on either side of their father now. Bloodstrike had to flick his eyes from one side to the other but was unable to keep both of them in sight. Fine strategy so far... Bloodstrike thought, though he refused to make any moves. Once he had taken his eyes away from Dawnhawk, the pale tom nodded once at Copperpaw to jump. Bloodstrike turned his eyes away just as the apprentice left his branch, paws extended.

The deputy had been prepared. He kicked off of his branch at the last minute, leaving nothing but a shaking tree limb for Copperpaw to land on. Unfortunately, the shorter limbs of the apprentice couldn't find a solid grasp on the wobbling branch. His claws slid off of it as blackened bark crumbled under his toes. The apprentice fell, but Copperpaw did manage to right himself in the air and grip a tree branch further down and avoided injury. Still, his confidence had been shot. Dawnhawk leaped after his father, intending to collide into him just as he landed on his new tree branch and give him no time to rebalance himself. His plan worked. The two toms hit each other and both of them bounced. Dawnhawk easily landed on a branch close by, but Bloodstrike had managed it as well.

"Copperpaw what are you doing? Climb back up!" Dawnhawk barked an order. Copperpaw's eyes widened guiltily and he started climbing again, but Bloodstrike had already left his branch and went straight for Dawnhawk. The pale tom whipped his body around the limb, clinging to it like a squirrel to avoid collision. Bloodstrike landed and landed hard, on purpose. The branch snapped. Both cats fell. With Dawnhawk under him, no matter what he grabbed or landed on, Bloodstrike would crush him. There was an audible thump when Dawnhawk landed, but Bloodstrike landed on top of him and pinned him under his paws. He looked up at Copperpaw, expecting his son to be flying toward him by now, but instead, the apprentice was still struggling to right himself on a branch that was just a bit too small for him.

Bloodstrike sighed, paying little mind to the struggling Dawnhawk under his feet.

"Copperpaw, try the branch beside that one! No... the other one! Pull yourse- OOOGH!!" A powerful blow that Bloodstrike had not been expecting collided with his flank. He back-pedaled off of Dawnhawk and tried to catch the breath that was knocked out of him. Dawnhawk had managed to wiggle and maneuver enough to send a hard hind-leg kick to Bloodstrike's flank. His pale son flipped to his feet and was immediately in a fighting stance. Well that was... unexpected. Bloodstrike eyed Dawnhawk for a moment... searching. His son only smirked. Apparently his larger muscles had not interfered with his flexibility... but still. Bloodstrike still felt as if something was off. Skyclan cats had powerful hind legs, it was true... but... something wasn't right.

"What's the matter old man?" Dawnhawk sneered. "Are your muscles in the way of your brain?" Bloodstrike snorted. Dismissing Copperpaw in the pine tree for now, he charged forward.

Smokefeather had just dropped a pair of birds onto the fresh-kill pile when her brother called out to her. Rainfur's long tail twitched as he spoke, informing her of where her apprentice was and that she was welcome to join in, apparently. With a nod of thanks, the fluffy tortoiseshell turned and left camp once more, heading toward half-stone, soft paws quiet against the snow.

Spotting the trio of cats, Smokefeather silently leapt into a tree, carefully making her way toward them, circling to approach Bloodstrike from behind. Unlike either of the bulkier toms, Smokefeather's slender frame was better suited to the trees. She wasn't built like Beechpaw, who underneath the long, thick fur had solid muscle. Smokefeather had the strong hind legs of a Skyclan warrior, but her form was far less muscular than her mate or son. An eye was kept on Copperpaw as well, noting the small apprentice's quietness even now. Worrying, and he seemed reluctant to launch any sort of attack on his father.

Quietly, Smokefeather crept closer, careful to stay out of Bloodstrike's line of sight as she did so. Copperpaw wasn't likely to give away her position, and Bloodstrike and Dawnhawk were preoccupied with each other.

A sweep of her fluffy tail sent snow off of the tree branch she now perched on, directly onto Bloodstrike and Dawnhawk below if they weren't fast enough in getting out of the way. Smokefeather continued on, easily making her way over to where Copperpaw was and settling on an adjacent branch to him.

"Steady, Copperpaw. Stick to the sturdier branches. If you can get to that one there-" She motioned to it with her tail, "-it'll hold your weight better, and allow you to jump and land on the two mousebrains below."

Bloodstrike threw his paws forward again and again only to have Dawnhawk dance around them. The smaller tom was swift, but Bloodstrike knew all too well what happens when you don't allow your muscles to rest. Dawnhawk appeared to be winning for now, but for not much longer. Cold air made a difference too in how fast muscles could recover if either tom was allowed to catch their breath. Snow fell onto Bloodstrike mainly, as Dawnhawk's observation skills helped him notice the flicker of the branch's shadow. Still, he got a decent amount on his head that rolled down his nose. It put a very brief pause to both cats as they shook the snow from their heads and faces. Hoping that it was Copperpaw getting ready to drop down on Bloodstrike finally, Dawnhawk feigned attacks to the left and right in an attempt to keep Bloodstrike still.

Copperpaw's fur bristled and his tail fluffed out to three times it's usual size, surprised at his mother's approach. The instant he realized it was her, he relaxed and smiled at her in greeting. He listened to her instructions and jumped to the branch that she had indicated. He stared down at his brother and father dueling, wondering how he'd end up if they moved before he could land on them. Well... he was more inclined to land on Bloodstrike. Dawnhawk he feared.

Copperpaw balanced on the branch, thankful that his mother had been right and it was not nearly as wobbly under his paws. He wiggled his haunches as he calibrated his jump, right before he leaped. He fell straight down with the cold wind rushing in his ears. Bloodstrike's shoulders were just below him... and...

Flop!

Copperpaw landed almost harmlessly on Bloodstrike's back. He hadn't meant to dig in with his claws to prevent himself from falling, but he did. For one heart stopping moment, he was afraid that his dad would whirl on his and be angry. Instead, Bloodstrike looked back at him with an expression of puzzlement. Ah... right... Copperpaw wasn't heavy enough yet to do any real damage, especially not to a tom of his father's size. Thank goodness. Bloodstrike didn't seem to mind... or maybe not even notice the claws. Dawnhawk charged forward with impressive force however once his dad's eyes had been on the apprentice. He threw a hard shoulder into Bloodstrike's chest, fully expecting him to bounce back.

But... No. Ow! Dawnhawk thought as an ache shot through his shoulder upon collision with the bigger tom. The next thing he knew was there was teeth in the back of his neck and a weight that pushed his face into the snow. He had been pinned again...

"Goo' jo' Co'er 'aw!" Bloodstrike complimented his younger soon through a mouthful of golden fur. Dawnhawk struggled uselessly for a few seconds before Bloodstrike released his scruff. When the pale tom brought his head up from the ground his tongue flicked in and out, trying to get snow out of his mouth.

"An apprentice isn't a fair ally." Dawnhawk immediately spat. Copperpaw's ears went against his head and his claws retracted. He slid off of Bloodstrike's ribs and landed on the ground. His coppery-brown eyes were full of apology when he looked at Dawnhawk, but his older brother didn't even acknowledge him. "I think I could do better alone. I keep waiting for him to make moves that he just... doesn't and it screws me up!" Dawnhawk practically growled. Bloodstrike's eyes narrowed at him while Copperpaw slunk low to the ground and crawled away. He moved to the tree that Smokefeather was still perched in and sat down, head low.

"I brought you both out here to learn! Do you really think you could take me on by yourself?" Bloodstrike's voice had raised a bit, but he wasn't quite yelling. His posture was taller however... and while he looked hardly winded at all, he could see that Dawnhawk was breathing harder than normal. It was as Bloodstrike suspected. The pale tom had gained muscle so fast that he had yet to realize it's limitations.

Smokefeather nodded as Copperpaw followed her instructions. He'd landed squarely on Bloodstrike... Which had no effect. Copperpaw was still small for his age, and Bloodstrike... Was Bloodstrike. Copperpaw would improve with time and more training, she hoped.

Dawnhawk was quickly dispatched, and Smokefeather's eyes narrowed at her elder son's outburst as he was released. Where had they gone wrong in raising him? Not even Dustpaw had ever been so belligerent and prideful. She and Bloodstrike had tried their best, but obviously it hadn't been enough.

"Fair?" Where Bloodstrike had raised his voice slightly, Smokefeather's had become quiet, gray-green eyes assessing her son's pale golden form coolly. He had bulked up recently, but seemed winded. Far more than Bloodstrike did.

"You are acting like an entitled kit-" Smokefeather continued, tone still deceptively soft as she slowly dropped from one branch to the next, tail twitching back and forth, "-and are whining about a sparring partner, an apprentice, that you ignored? Were you even trying to work with Copperpaw or actually show him anything? I couldn't tell."

"Your father brought you both out here to learn. Did you think that just because you became a warrior, you had no need? Arrogance won't win you any favors, Dawnhawk. Or a spar." Nor would that arrogance let him refrain from making a hare-brained mistake against his father, it seemed, but Smokefeather kept the last to herself. That move would've worked against a smaller cat, one who was less sturdy and less experienced. Against Bloodstrike it was just asking for trouble.

Smokefeather's gaze shifted to Copperpaw, and it softened slightly.

"You are lighter on your paws... And Bloodstrike is probably the largest cat in the clans at this point. You won't out-muscle him. You're small, and that gives you an advantage to hit and run tactics rather than facing him directly or trying to pin him once you've leapt onto his back."

"I brought you both out here to learn! Do you really think you could take me on by yourself?" Dawnhawk's fur bristled ever so slightly as fiery blue defiance danced in his eyes. Oh, I think I could... Still, he didn't voice it out loud. His claws unsheathed a bit from his paws and his nose wrinkled ever so slightly in a barely suppressed snarl. Bloodstrike didn't miss it, and instead of responding, simply held his son in a frigid stare. You can try... Bloodstrike thought to himself, sending mental messages to Dawnhawk with only his expression. Smokefeather's voice snapped them both out of it and their eyes looked in the direction of her voice. She had come after all. Bloodstrike held his tongue and waited for her to say what she wanted. Dawnhawk met her gaze, his own eyes piercing and just as defiant as they had been with Bloodstrike.

"It's not arrogance." He spat before he could stop himself. A look of surprise flashed across his features, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. He hadn't meant to say that. He was normally good about keeping himself calm but today... well today was different. Maybe it was because it was his parents talking down to him... maybe it was other things that he had on his mind that put him in such a sour mood. His patience was at an absolute minimum. Still, he figured he already spoke out, he may as well spill his feelings out a little more, even if it may cost him a smack or two from his dad.

"Copperpaw is your apprentice. I shouldn't have to teach him anything." And if he's a failure then it's your own fault. At least he managed to keep a lid on that one. A low growl rumbled from Bloodstrike's throat.

"That apprentice is your younger brother. It is just as much your responsibility as it is Smokefeather's to train him well. One day you may need him in the middle of a clan war for all you know." Bloodstrike managed to keep his tone authoritative but not allow his anger to run away with him. Becoming the deputy had proven to be good for him, as he had found out he is much better at controlling his emotions when he was already in a position of authority. Still... Dawnhawk was pushing his luck speaking to his mother that way.

Copperpaw listened to his mother's advice and nodded, understanding what she was talking about. If it had been a real fight, Copperpaw may have tried to slide under Bloodstrike's belly to cause pain and be a useful distraction... but even then he wasn't sure how well that would have worked. Dawnhawk didn't seem very impressed by him, but he really had been trying to make the best judgements that he could. His feelings had been hurt, but he quickly forgot about his own hurt feelings when Dawnhawk started mouthing off to their mother. Copperpaw's ears pricked forward and his muscles tensed. He got off of his haunches and lined his shoulders up with Dawnhawk's body.

A single... low noise came from his throat. A growl... a tiny growl.. but it was the most vocalization he had made in weeks. Dawnhawk's ear rotated in his direction and the pale tom's eyes fixed him in his gaze, but nothing more aside from that.

Smokefeather noted the barely-contained beginnings of a snarl, noted the defiance in her son's eyes as he glared at her and Bloodstrike. She should've been used to the defiant looks after all this time, really. It was always defiance and venom with the golden tom, though he so often tried to hide it under pleasantries and a veil of being the model hunter. When he was younger, she'd brushed it aside as the immaturity of youth. Now though, after watching how he treated his siblings, watching the ever-defiant glares given to authority figures, the way he'd reacted to her confronting him about the fight with Beechpaw, Smokefeather wasn't so sure that was accurate. He'd never grown out of it, and he was a fully-grown tom. If he hadn't by now, nothing she or Bloodstrike could say or do would change him. All she could do was accept it and move on. Smokefeather had told him that not liking family was fine, that avoiding family was fine. Perhaps she should have followed her own advice, and stopped trying with Dawnhawk long ago. Why force the relationship when he had nothing but contempt for others?

At his words, Smokefeather leveled an unflinching gaze at the younger tom.

"We are clanmates, and family. Not a bunch of loners with no regard for the next cat." Though even the loners Smokefeather had met seemed to care more for others and had been more open to teaching others than Dawnhawk was. Summer's lilting words of advice and compassion were so at odds with Dawnhawk's harshness. Wherever the drifter was now, Smokefeather hoped she was doing well.

Bloodstrike spoke, and Smokefeather gave a derisive snort. With the way Dawnhawk was going, she highly doubted there would be many cats who would watch his back in a clan war. Dawnhawk's refusal to cooperate with someone he so-clearly thought beneath him would likely make him more of a liability than anything.

The noise from Copperpaw didn't go unnoticed, and Smokefeather had to wonder what the quiet apprentice made of their bickering. It was the first noise she'd heard from him in weeks, and he didn't sound too pleased.

The lecturing continued from both sides and Dawnhawk's jaw clenched shut. His claws pierced the earth below him, a trait he had picked up from his father it seemed. He took his warning eyes off of Copperpaw and set them back on Bloodstrike, whom had barely moved the entire time. He was quiet for several tense heartbeats, but eventually he broke the stiffness in his body and the silence in the air. He lashed his tail once in agitation, but took a deep breath immediately afterward.

"You're right," He said, though his expression suggested more of a "eat crow-food and die" statement. He turned away from his parents and away from Copperpaw.

"Where are you going?" Bloodstrike asked. Dawnhawk didn't turn around. "I don't feel good." He answered simply without even looking over his shoulder. Bloodstrike's ears rotated backwards, threatening to lay flat against his head, but not quite. "Dawnhawk," The deputy called after him, with authority but still not yelling. It was enough to get his eldest son to stop in his tracks. He still didn't even bother looking behind him however. "You claimed that you weren't being arrogant earlier. What did you mean by that?"

Now... Dawnhawk looked over his shoulder. His fur bristled again and his nose wrinkled back up, exposing the tips of his fangs. Bloodstrike honed in on his reaction. Something about it threatened to make his own fur bristle, but he maintained control of himself for now. "I meant what I said. I'm not arrogant. Can I go back to camp now?" "No. If you're confident in your abilities I want to see it. I'm not belittling you. I am giving you a chance to prove yourself to your family as well as your deputy. If you impress me, I may change up your patrol schedule to something you'd prefer more. I'll even let you pick one warrior that you prefer to accompany you when you go out. I wouldn't want you to have to "deal with" less experienced warriors who might slow you down or "screw you up" as you put it." Bloodstrike watched his son's reaction very carefully. What he saw there was... nothing. Dawnhawk's expression cleared to a very neutral one... a thinking one. There wasn't much to be gathered from that.

"I..." Dawnhawk looked away and his tail tip twitched. Bloodstrike wasn't going to offer again. After a few moments, Dawnhawk sighed loudly and turned to face his father. "I don't need my patrol changed... but if this is what you want then-"

"You're not sparring with me. Spar with Smokefeather." He nodded in his mate's direction. Dawnhawk growled quietly under his breath. "Why her?" "Well... it's her apprentice that you feel is... lacking. Perhaps you can show her what you feel she is doing wrong, or maybe at the end of this you will owe her an apology and Copperpaw too." Bloodstrike's voice was calm, but his tone was final. He would not be accepting any if's and's or but's. Dawnhawk snorted, but approached Smokefeather and stopped two fox-lengths away. He dropped down into a crouch and his muscles tensed, ready for action.

Copperpaw stepped back to give them both some space, curious as to how this spar would go. He was willing to watch and pay very close attention. Hopefully, he would learn something from all of this.

Dawnhawk on the other hand barely contained his rage at this entire situation. The only reason why he hadn't lashed out was because he knew what Bloodstrike was trying to do: He was trying to use Dawnhawk's ego against him. Unfortunately for Bloodstrike, his son was no stranger to manipulation and knew how to spot it.

"Let's get this over with." He snarled under his breath, but made no move to attack. He would allow Smokfeather the first move, if she wished.

Smokefeather's displeasure on grew with Dawnhawks's antics, but she stayed silent, trusting that Bloodstrike could handle the tom better. If he was closer to her, she would've given in to the temptation to box his ears, but for now she remained where she was, saying nothing. How they had wound up with such a brat after everything was beyond her, and the only thing she could do was resolve herself to making sure the rest of her younger kits didn't turn out like him. Especially Dawnhawk's own apprentice.

At Bloodstrike's "suggestion" that they spar, Smokefeather rotated an ear in his direction, cool gaze watching Dawnhawk's reaction. He didn't want to do this, that much was painfully obvious, but the reluctance to spar with her was nothing new. Primroselight had always been reluctant to spar with her, but never to this extent, and Smokefeather knew her daughter's reasoning for that reluctance. Yet Dawnhawk's reluctance certainly didn't seem like it was because he didn't like fighting. She wondered at it, at why, but chose not to comment on it. Asking was, at this point, likely to just irritate his temper further.

Bloodstrike continued to speak, and Smokefeather, rather than staying still, chose instead to spring back into the trees, circling Dawnhawk from above. He'd never been overly muscular before, but he'd gained muscle from somewhere. Judging by the way he was winded after the first spar with Bloodstrike, he wasn't quite used to it yet. Still, Smokefeather knew better than to try forcing brute strength against an opponent. It simply wouldn't work.

She'd fought beside Bloodstrike time and time again, and had escaped many of those fights without much in the way of injury. Against the foxes in their camp, she'd picked every spot with caution, using the environment and distraction of others to her advantage to escape with nothing more than blood-stained claws. This was a one-on-one spar, and she doubted there would be much distraction from their two spectators. The surrounding environment could still be useful, however. Powerful back legs propelled her forcefully off the branch as she leapt for Dawnhawk as he grumbled about getting things over with, intending to knock him to the ground.

Smokefeather used Leaping Bound on Dawnhawk for -10sp, dealing 10 damage. Dawnhawk is pinned for one turn.

Smokefeather
80 / 80 hp
230 / 240 sp (240 - 10)

Dawnhawk -pinned-
35 / 45 hp (45 - 10)
160 / 160 sp

Dawnhawk's eyes followed after his mother as she went up the tree, but he made no move to give chase. His ears swiveled backward and flattened against his head. He knew what Bloodstrike was really planning, but he couldn't help but feel some level of anger. He hated being below someone else, forced to obey their whims. His fur bristled when Smokefeather launched herself at him, but Dawnhawk held still. She collided into him and he hit the ground with a huff. Just as quickly as she had pinned him, Dawnhawk slipped out from under her paws and was back on his feet. He stood there once more, waiting, the tips of his fangs visible just below his lips.

Do not lose your temper Dawnhawk... He thought to himself and took a deep breath to calm himself down. It's what he wants you to do... just eat it for now... He coached himself in his head and forced his fur to lie flat. His anger seemed to be dying away. He had much better control over his emotions than Bloodstrike did usually.

"Oh, going for a pin move right away..." Dawnhawk sneered at Smokefeather. "Definitely didn't see that one coming. Amazing fighting skills mother... show me more!" He was taunting her now. His tail lashed behind him as he regained a fighting stance.

Dawnhawk is no longer pinned!

Smokefeather
80HP / 230SP

Dawnhawk
35HP / 160SP

---

Bloodstrike's eyes went to Smokefeather. He wasn't going to curb Dawnhawk's words for now, knowing that it was likely a battle strategy to get Smokefeather angry and make mistakes. At the end of this fight however, he would be reminding his son to not speak to his mother like that outside of a spar.

Dawnhawk was quick to scramble out of her grasp, nothing unexpected there. He'd always been quick on his paws, and Smokefeather's opening move hadn't been meant to pin him for long.

Smokefeather merely arched a brow at his words. They were Skyclan cats, leaping onto opponents from the trees was second nature. Not even Primroselight had thrown this much of a tantrum about sparring using Skyclan's tried and true tactics. She'd grumbled, sure, and had far more of a legitimate reason to than Dawnhawk did, yet had never acted like a spoiled brat who wasn't getting her way because she'd been told to spar against someone with more experience.

Dawnhawk was very quickly exhausting what remained of Smokefeather's goodwill and tolerance for nonsense. If he was going to whine about every little thing, she'd give him something to whine about for real. She'd keep her claws sheathed, as this was a spar between clanmates (however irritated she might be with said clanmate) but wasn't going to pull her punches as she normally would.

Tail deliberately kept close to her body and ears flat, Smokefeather darted forward, rearing up and boxing at his ears in a quick flurry of blows. The move would leave her belly exposed, though she deliberately twisted to minimize that exposure. Either Dawnhawk would take the hit to try slashing at Smokefeather's unprotected belly, or he would attempt to dodge. With Bloodstrike's words, Smokefeather was betting that Dawnhawk would try to do what damage he could rather than shy away from the blows.

Smokefeather used Rear-Up To Slash on Dawnhawk for -15sp, dealing -14 damage.

Smokefeather
80 / 80 hp
215 / 240 sp (230 - 15)

Dawnhawk
21 / 45 hp (35 - 14)
160 / 160 sp

Dawnhawk watched his mother's reaction carefully. She was getting more annoyed, but not truly angered. He noted that and logged it in the back of his mind for later. She came at him again and Dawnhawk took the flurry of blows. He could have done a number of things... things that neither of his parents would have expected... but instead he simply went for the most obvious attack. He wasn't going to let his dad control what he did any longer. Dawn hawk jumped forward and latched himself to Smokefeather's belly, though his claws hardly did any serious puncturing. Literally a small prick of her flesh followed by immediate release as he spun his body back toward the floor, trailing a hind paw with sheathed claws across her stomach.

Dawnhawk used half-turn belly rake, dealing 11 damage and -15SP

Smokefeather
69HP / 215SP (-11HP)

Dawnhawk
21HP / 145SP (-15SP)

Dawnhawk's paws slid against her belly, hardly damaging considering their spar. If this had been a true fight, it would have spilled blood, but that wasn't the aim here. The pale tom twisted, hind paw trailing against her stomach before landing on the ground.

The barely-there blows seemed quite at-odds with Dawnhawk's irritation. Perhaps it was the same reluctance that he'd always shown toward raising paws against Smokefeather, perhaps it was that Dawnhawk knew how to control himself physically despite whatever had his fur ruffled. He certainly wasn't fighting as hard as she knew he was capable of in a spar, but Smokefeather was going to chalk it up to the former.

In twisting to land on the ground, Dawnhawk had, however, left himself open. Perhaps it had been deliberate as she had done, perhaps not, but Smokefeather had no qualms about trying to take advantage of it. The fluffy tortoiseshell darted forward, moving to grab his tail within her teeth as she landed back in all fours. She'd yank her son roughly backward, and hopefully off-balance, though as usual Smokefeather was careful not to draw blood.

Hopefully Copperpaw was paying attention and leaning from the both of them. Smokefeather didn't care if he loathed combat with every fiber of his being. That was even perfectly okay. But the quiet apprentice still needed to know how to handle himself in a fight.

Smokefeather used Tail Yank on Dawnhawk for -10sp, dealing -7 damage.

Smokefeather
69 / 80 hp
205 / 240 sp (215 - 10)

Dawnhawk -stunned-
14 / 45 hp (21 - 7)
145 / 160 sp

Dawnhawk thought he'd be fast enough to get out of the way, but his carelessness was faster it seemed. Smokefeather caught his tail between her teeth.

His. TAIL!

Dawnhawk's eyes widened at first and he growled in surprise... but then his face twisted into one of pure malice. His lips peeled back to unsheathed his fangs, his ears pinned flat against his head and he spun himself away from his mother, forcefully yanking his tail from her mouth. His claws came out as his entire being shook with fury.

"How dare you... You cheap, low-hitting fox-hearted rat!" Dawnhawk spat the words out just as much as physical spit. His fur had bristled out to maximum length, making him appear absolutely monstrous.

Bloodstrike's ow claws came out as well and he crouched, ready to take action if Dawnhawk dared cause Smokefeather to bleed even a little...

Dawnhawk is no longer stunned.

Dawnhawk ripped himself away from Smokefeather, whirling on her furiously. She'd expected this level of hostility to be used in their spar, put to productive use. But no, instead he chose to snap at her, as if he wouldn't have done the same thing. As if this wasn't a spar and she'd been the one to antagonize him.

And just like that, the last of Smokefeather's patience was gone. No other cat could be so difficult, no other cat had frustrated her like this. Not Sunflower's cowardice, not Beechpaw or Dustpaw and their hostilities. Not Spottedstar and his selfish arrogance and ability to hinder his own clan. Not Lichenpaw's boisterousness or Copperpaw's continued silence had ever made her come close to losing her temper. Dawnhawk, however, had managed it. Here he was, screeching about his precious tail being yanked in. a. spar. Whining about fairness and being asked to help train an apprentice. His own family!

When her paws slammed into his head, Dawnhawk should count himself lucky that at the end of the day, he was still her son. Though she was sure that he'd find a way to whine about that, too. Maybe she and Bloodstrike hadn't been harsh enough on him.

"Are you done?" Smokefeather asked sharply, stalking past her son to stand nearer to Bloodstrike, words clipped short with genuine anger, now. Her ears were still pinned against her head, and her own claws dug furrows into the snow. The look she leveled at Dawnhawk was frigid. A slow exhale escaped her, but she'd refrain from snapping at him in turn beyond this. Stars help him if he kept on like this, however.

Smokefeather used Upright Lock on Dawnhawk for -25hp, dealing -16 damage.

Smokefeather
69 / 80 hp
180 / 240 sp (205 - 25)

Dawnhawk KO'd
0 / 45 hp (14 - 16)
145 / 160 sp

Dawnhawk growled in fury as his mother charged at him once more. He even kicked off of the ground and bolted toward her, intending to do serious damage and maybe even-- No. Dawnhawk's paw faltered as he put on his brakes. It made him a sitting duck for her paws when they came crashing down onto the top of his head. Now that one had hurt. It was enough to knock him back into reality and even shake his anger off of him. He hit the ground with a thump! He wasn't tired, not from any of that, but he inhaled and exhaled like he was in an effort to fight any left over feelings of rage away.

I can't lose it right now... I can't. Dawnhawk looked up at his mother standing beside Bloodstrike, whom had only just pulled himself out of a crouch and retracted his claws. The dark tabby still just stood there, saying nothing. Copperpaw had been watching too, focused but completely silent. The apprentice cocked his head to one side, concern in his eyes, before he approached his older brother on the ground.

Dawnhawk's head snapped in Copperpaw's direction, expecting to see smugness rather than the concern he had there. The pale tom blinked at him once, but said nothing to him as he got back to his feet. A shake of his head cleared the ringing he'd heard in his ears before he set his intense, blue eyes back on his mother.

"Are you?" Dawnhawk snapped back. His eyes flicked from Smokefeather to Bloodstrike and back. "You were so upset when the fox killed Dustpaw," Dawnhawk hissed, but something made his eyes shine more than normal. Something wet. "You've coddled Primroselight her whole life and did nothing but take pity on Beechpaw." He had to pause as he swallowed something hard in his throat. Where did... all of this come from? Even Dawnhawk didn't know, but he had a hard time stopping it.

"If that fox had killed me instead, would you have been upset over it? If I had been born blind or been forced to take a role in the clan I didn't want, would it have bothered you?" Dawnhawk had growled his last words, but his vision began to blur. Upon the realization that he was asking Smokefeather this and... was actually bothered by what her answer might be, he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath before his voice could change to any higher pitches. At least being able to sing had taught him how to control his voice that way... and to know when to give it a rest if the strain was beginning to be too much.

Bloodstrike's eyes had softened considerably and it was on the tip of his tongue to answer, but he knew that Dawnhawk's question was directed at Smokefeather, not him. He wanted to reassure his son that he was loved, as frustrating as he could be sometimes... but the fact that Dawnhawk had doubts at all pained him. This was something that Smokefeather needed to answer, and Bloodstrike bit his tongue for now to allow her to speak for herself. He would intervene if needed, but for now, he wasn't apart of this conversation. He was never meant to be.