darting, down, down, down [closed for grizzly]

They had traveled across the territory, drawing further and further with each flighty step. Fawnstep hardly slowed to accommodate the younger cat. Admittedly, he thought of his own training with Eagletalon, something that had forced him to learn to keep up. If the warrior had been soft on him, perhaps his gait wouldn't has been as swift and trained. It took some time before the handsome brown and white tom finally came to a stop; when he did, it was abrupt.

"Wait here. And stay quiet." Fawnstep ordered in a low hiss before darting away. When he returned, there was a skinny rabbit writhing between his teeth. The goal was not to crush the creature, nor kill it. They would be training with it. He turned and lead the way to the edge of a tunnel, barely visible to the untrained eye on the moors. Setting the rabbit at the mouth of the tunnel, which squeaked and squealed restlessly, the warrior pinned it beneath his paws.

"Windclan cats are often trained to navigate open lands but I'm not here to teach you how to use the skills that will come easy to you." Fawnstep regarded the young tom down the bridge of his nose, "The tunnels will be your training ground for today. Catch this rabbit and bring it back to me. It's a little wounded, so that should be easy enough." One hindleg was smeared with scarlet, which became noticeable as the warrior shifted to position it at the gaping tunnel mouth. There would be no demonstration of hunting technique, nor further instruction. He wanted to see what Ryepaw could do.

In one swift motion, the prey was released into the darkness, and a sharp yowl instructed Ryepaw forward, "Go!"

Ryepaw was easily winded, running in short bursts, strong sprints, before becoming weary and slowing to a menial trot. It did not compare to Fawnstep's little paws, his long strides, the angle of his proud neck. It made the apprentice twinge with a feeling he could not begin to understand. He just knew it wasn't good.

Fawnstep's blood was blood he shared, and though they were of a similar height, they could not have been more at odds. Ryepaw felt slight, drawn back into his mentor's shadow. Ugly, maybe. More than anything, he felt incapable of doing what Fawnstep seemed to take to so naturally. Never before had something made him feel so viscerally insecure. Sunnyskip and Nightwind's doting had not prepared him for how poorly he melded into WindClan's style of hunting, fighting, and living. Where this body type came from, and what it was made for, would always be a mystery, as long as his father's heritage remained enigmatic. Ryepaw's only hope was to learn, and learn well, and learn quickly, so that he could be spared the embarrassment of bumbling about the moors for all time.

His only solace was that Fawnstep kept him at a considerable distance, clanmate-to-clanmate. It was oddly comforting, that he was not invested in his apprentice as kin. Their shared heritage was meaningless; they were two parts of a whole, and Fawnstep's duty was to instruct him until he didn't have to anymore. It did not stop Ryepaw from craving his approval... or being nervous for the road ahead.

Their sudden halt startled him, but he dared not open his mouth more than to gasp for air and ask why. Fawnstep returned with prey, the aroma thick on the air, the metallic twang of blood no stronger than the scent of its fear. The rabbit squirmed, and the suddenly, the brown tom dropped it down a hole. Ryepaw's head snapped back up to his mentor, agape with shock.

"Me?!" he choked out. Fawnstep's face hardly changed. He was already losing time. Jerking in alarm, Ryepaw dove down into the tunnel, the abyss surrounding him, cold air washing over his face.

He began scrambling immediately, pawpads rolling over rocks and dust, kicking it back into his eyes. There was nothing to see, or scent... except rabbit. He could smell it. He could hear it scuffling. It was quick. Ryepaw's nose smacked against a fork, and he yowled with the force of the impact. Trying his best to shake it off, he sniffed down both ends of the tunnel and chose left. Go. Go. Go.

This branch was wider. He stooped up from his belly crawl to a hunch. He couldn't stop coughing; his throat became dry and scratchy. Go! Go! Go! He tripped and fell against the wall, sending a small avalanche of dust and pebbles down onto his head. "This is so MOUSEBRAINED!" he hissed, "Whose great idea was this grubby tunnel, anyway?!"

Rage propelled him, took hold of his legs and drove him deeper. There was a little more light, now. The tunnel was opening up to sunlight. The rabbit would escape. He moved quicker now, his prey hot on his tongue. He wanted it. He wanted it more than he wanted air, and more than he wanted life. The sunlight warmed the air around him. This was it. This was the final moment. Ryepaw recalled playing kit games, chasing moths around the camp, snapping his jaws just in time to clip its wing. He kicked off the ground behind him and splayed both paws out. His head twisted, and he clamped down. He caught a bright white ear in a full bite. Ryepaw pulled the rabbit into his chest, curling all four legs around the thrashing, kicking creature as he searched for the weak point. Every cat knew it, the nape of its neck. As soon as he reached it, he bit down with all the force of a warrior.

A few moments passed, long enough for the dust to settle and a bird to call in the sky above him. Ryepaw panted heavily, licking blood and grime from the places on his face he could reach. It was messy work, what he had accomplished. But he caught it. Ryepaw heaved himself to his paws and emerged from the tunnel, coated in a thin layer of dirt and carrying the similarly messied rabbit in his jaws. He didn't quite recognize the part of the territory he had landed in. He couldn't have gotten too far.

Ryepaw attempted to catch a rabbit. [Success]
77/80 SP (-3)

The member 'Grizzly' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 9

There was an obvious shock in the kit's voice, one that he was no surprised to hear. Fawnstep was about to snap out the command once more, with increased urgency, before the stout apprentice turn and dove into the tunnel. Despite being older and more experienced, this was a particular area in which he'd hardly been trained himself. It was for this reason he was pushing Ryepaw and striving to make the young cat better and more skilled. Eventually, the warrior would increase his own abilities, like claws striking claws.

Initially, the sounds of scrabbling and scratching betrayed the clumsy way in which the other tom took to diving through the tunnel. Blood pounded in Fawnstep's ears as he strained for sound. It slowly became farther and more distant. Despite not being well acquainted eith the underground, what Fawnstep did know were the many gaps and warrens cutting through the territory. Little effort from his limber frame allowed him to quickly locate where the apprentice emerged. Just over the horizon he saw the struggling pair. Quickly, the flailing was cut short. Satisfaction washed over the warrior but he only showed it in a brief smile, one that was dashed away before he was ever in sight of the apprentice.

From a nearby opening in the earth came a low sqeak. His head snapped around, quickly sighting the prey. Another rabbit. It was likely drawn out by his apprentice's noisy pursuits. Fawnstep flicked his tail and turned to quickly snatch it up. With a quick pounce and swift dispatch from his fangs, the creature's life was cut short in perhaps the smoothest catch ever made on these moors. Unaware of his own prowess, the white and brown tom took little time to congratulate himself, instead turning back to follow after Ryepaw. They would discuss the hunt, and what to do next. Before he could take another step, searing pain exploded up his hindleg. Fawnstep whipped around with a snarl to find the source. It wasn't Ryepaw that had caused to rabbit to flee at all... they had a new companion in training.

"Ryepaw, no time for rest! I'm going to teach you how to fight!" Fawnstep's commanding yowl rose through the air. He lashed out with thorn sharp claws and raked through the pelt of his foe that still clung on. What an obnoxious creature. The fringes of his gaze blurred as he narrowed in on the opponent.

Fawnstep tried to catch a rabbit. It was successful! -3sp

Fawnstep used front paw strike dealing 11 damage and using 10 stamina.
Fawnstep also used swift strike dealing 5 damage and using 10 stamina.

Weasel used gripping bite on Fawnstep, dealing 10 damage and using 30 stamina. Weasel is holding on for 2 turns.

Fawnstep
HP: 50/60
SP: 177/200

Weasel
HP: 44/60
SP: 170/200

The member 'Ripped' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 1

ooc - i refuse to let this topic die, i will not make another battle topic because of my own stupidity and writers block

The quiet thumping of fleet-footed limbs alerted Ryepaw to his mentor's approach. The tom had somehow found time to catch his own bounty. The apprentice's eyebrows lifted suddenly, eyes drawn to the rabbit's belly, plump and well-fed. Ryepaw's catch, which he now nudged with a single toe, was a weak and skinny morsel. So, he had not been so apt a hunter, after all. He snorted. Fawnstep suddenly dropped his prey and leaped into the air, shaking his hind leg with the nonchalance of a cat who had a burr stuck to him. Ryepaw had not expected such a reaction to an impossibly fast snake-squirrel leaping at his mentor's ankles.

"Huh?" Ryepaw gasped at Fawnstep's command, still out of breath, rolling up to his paws as his heavy joints stacked atop each other in slow sequence. He had hardly shaken off the dirt from his tunnel exploration, and he was now bolting closer to the assailant, taking notice of its odd paws, devilish expression, and sharp little teeth. "What is that?!" he yelped.

The weasel hung to Fawnstep's skin in a vice. Awkwardly, he struck out with a set of extended claws, hooking into the weasel's flesh and nicking it. The rodent did not seem to care. "What now?"

Ryepaw used Front Paw Strike.

Ryepaw
20/20 HP
70/80 SP (-10)

Fawnstep
50/60 HP
177/200 SP

Weasel
38/60 (-6)
170/200 SP