mother, make me a bird of prey [C]

Silverpaw

Pale yellow light found its way through the cracks in the den's roof, brightening the space Silverpaw had gotten used to seeing in darkness. He hadn't been sleeping well for a few weeks now, whether it was fits of restlessness that kept him awake long after he'd grown tired; nightmares that rattled him out of what sleep he could find; gory and unwanted thoughts that he couldn't keep down, waking nightmares he couldn't close his eyes against; or clinging to a few achingly rare hours of peace, voluntary solitude he hadn't had enough of lately.

Today it was the waking nightmares that kept his skin buzzing under his fur, kept his eyes peeled open even when they burned. Laying uselessly in one spot almost drove him as mad as the flashes of blood and viscera that flickered ceaseless over his visual memory. He needed to do something with himself other than just... lay here. Something to distract himself, something not to hear the constant and shallow breathing of his denmates, something just to do something.

Silverpaw got up, ready to leave the den by himself, but a stark white pelt caught his eye halfway through stepping over the cat in question. The not-so little scrap of fur that watched him drag Honeylight home. He hadn't bothered to learn the new apprentice's name– he'd just been bitterly calling him stupid kit when he caught sight of him, but Silverpaw guessed he wasn't exactly a kit anymore. A fellow apprentice now, so deserving of at least minimal respect; and not the source of his issues, so not completely deserving of his ire.

But a good enough scapegoat to spend his energy on.

Lowering his paw from where it stilled in the air, Silverpaw gave the white apprentice a firm nudge to the ribs. "Hey. Get up." He whispered, pressing down again. When he was sure the other tom was awake, "Come outside with me. I'm going to learn your name, and you're going to practice sparring." Then his tail whisked and he was gone from the den, waiting impatiently in the center of camp.

Hawkpaw had not actually been asleep. Sleeplessness dogged him frequently even in the nursery, and it seemed being an apprentice did not make a sizable difference in this. He was laying perfectly still and quiet though, curled up with his tail covering his nose, because one of the queens once told him that if he just laid still and quiet he’d still get rest. She might’ve just been trying to stop him from moving around and being annoying, but he took the advice to heart anyway.

He was expecting to stay like that until Sunflare came to get him for training. He sensed the presence of someone else before the paw came down, and figured it was Sunflare, even if it seemed a little early. He was drifting half awake, and he didn’t bother opening his eyes yet. He didn’t want questions about why he was awake. The voice that spoke startled him though, and vivid golden eyes flew open to look up at Silverpaw.

He stared at him in silent befuddlement for a moment, considering and weighing. He knew Silverpaw by name, but only because he’d found himself paying attention after watching Silverpaw drag his brother home. He’d considered approaching from time to time, but what would he say? Hawkpaw had no idea how to deal with grief. And now Silverpaw had approached him, demanding a spar and his name.

Ears tilting downward for a second, Hawkpaw grumbled as he sat up and watched Silverpaw go out the door. He hesitated but… oh, what was he doing besides sulking in bed? Might as well get the practice in. He needed to become a warrior quickly, after all. Stepping outside, he crossed the camp to join Silverpaw.

Voice rough from sleep, Hawkpaw spoke. “You could at least ask, instead of demanding it.” Then, after a shrug, “And the name is Hawkpaw. You’re Silverpaw, right?” He stretched, closing his eyes for a moment as he shook out his sore muscles. The pale sunlight warmed his thick fur, and Hawkpaw liked it. He took a second to size Silverpaw up. He was older, and more experienced, which meant he was probably going to beat Hawkpaw. That wasn’t going to stop Hawkpaw from trying though.

Silverpaw

Silverpaw had taken up pacing in the spare seconds he had to wait, but it wasn’t long before he was drawing to collected stop. He stood tall, with his shoulders squared and chin raised. He squinted at the assessment of his tone, eyes creasing even tighter at the name he was given. “Hawkpaw?” He echoed incredulously. “You don’t look like a hawk. You’re white. You look more like a pigeon.” Silverpaw scoffed lightly. It was an admirable name, he’d admit, but that meant little when it was ill-fitting to start.

Puffing himself up a little more, “Yes. I didn’t realize I was so popular.” The shadow of a smirk caught the edges of his maw. He knew why Hawkpaw knew him. He’d be an idiot not to. Spinning it into egoism, while an impulse reaction, dug up a glimmer of pride that outshone his anger. “Anyway,” the segue was a clipped chirp, accompanied by Silverpaw spinning on his pads to pace away from Hawkpaw, “clearly, I don’t need to ask. Demands get a response, I guess. You followed me, didn’t you?” Silverpaw looked over his shoulder, the sunlight brightening the flicker of deviance in his green eyes.

Once he was a decent distance away, he stopped and spun to face Hawkpaw once more. He didn’t bother taking up a fighting stance or bracing himself against any sort of attack, even though- “I’m inviting you to attack first. You’re barely out of the nursery. I bet you need the advantage.” Silverpaw’s tail snaked nonchalantly behind him. His stare was burning when it fell on Hawkpaw. “Go ahead, Dove. You have the first move. Earn your name, yeah?”

Hawkpaw’s ears laid flat once more at the assessment of his name. It wasn’t like he picked it. That was all his parents. He’s asked the same question, of why he was named after a Hawk when he looked nothing like one… He didn’t care much for that answer. He watched Silverpaw talk and goad and be… well, the only word that came to Hawkpaw’s mind was ‘a brat.’ His dad called Hawkpaw that a lot. Seemed more fitting to apply it to the pompous apprentice in front of him. Suddenly, the idea of tackling him to the ground sounded way more appealing.

"Earn your name, yeah?"

Okay. Silverpaw wants a hawk? He can have one.

Golden eyes met that intense green stare head on, Hawkpaw’s expression remaining flat as he tilted his head and stared Silverpaw down. He stayed silent for a minute, letting the other tom grow irritated with Hawkpaw not moving yet, before he spoke. “I followed you because I was bored.” He said, lifting a paw and giving it a few licks. “Don’t get any ideas about it being for any other reason.”

Then he gathered his muscles underneath him, tensing up, and suddenly launching forward before tackling Silverpaw. His form was sloppy, clearly untrained, but still, he knew the basic concept in order to tackle Silverpaw down, using his weight to knock into him. He wasn’t used to playing with other kits, so he wasn’t well versed in holding back his weight. The tackle was a little harsher than called for. While on top of Silverpaw, Hawkpaw leaned in and hissed, “And since you seem to keep forgetting, it’s Hawkpaw. Not Dove, not Pigeon.” Then he leapt off, crouching down and defensive.

Hawkpaw used Jumping Strike, dealing 9 damage (6+3) and costing -7 SP.

Hawkpaw
20/20 HP
53/60 SP

Silverpaw
11/20 HP
60/60 SP

Silverpaw

While he kept his body loose, Silverpaw’s claws were starting to work in and out of the soft ground by the time Hawkpaw bothered to speak. The idle gesture of grooming his paw made Silverpaw’s blood spike, suddenly burning. He snorted again, and there was a sharp retort waiting on his tongue when Hawkpaw decided it was finally time to move, too. He was a mess of fur and uncoordinated limbs, but his unchecked weight served him well.

Silverpaw’s back hit the ground and a rush of air left his lungs with the collision. His lip curled when the other apprentice leaned close, sharp teeth bared in defense of his space. He rolled quickly onto his paws when Hawkpaw was off, though he stayed low to the ground, belly fur brushing the earth. “If you were bored, you would have found something to entertain yourself. I did. That’s why I told you to follow me.” Silverpaw couldn’t drag his gaze off Hawkpaw’s, and his brow furrowed. “Maybe you were bored. I don’t really care what your reason was. You still listened to me. Is that your way of saying I'm the best entertainment you have?”

The thought of being entertainment made his fur prickle, stirring discomfort and doggedness alike. To dismiss his own comment, he gathered his weight and sneared, “I'm not forgetting anything, Dove. You haven't given me anything to remember.” And raced forward, ducking under Hawkpaw’. While he managed to slide below the other apprentice, he had little room to twist to deliver a proper blow to his belly. Silverpaw wrenched himself around, but succeeded in little other than putting a painful tug in his shoulder that earned a sharp growl. Tail snapping with irritation, he still pressed his now-aching shoulder into Hawkpaw's underbelly– far from the staggering blow he'd intended, but enough force to wedge the white apprentice off to give him room to crawl back into a proper fighting stance. "Change that."

Silverpaw is attempting Belly Rake... attempt unsuccessful. Cost -25 SP and dealt -5 recoil damage.

Silverpaw
6/20 (-5) HP
35/60 (-25) SP

Hawkpaw
20/20 HP
53/60 SP

Green bored into gold as Silverpaw stared him down, and Hawkpaw’s skin prickled with the sensation. He can’t remember the last time he had so much of his focus on another cat, who’s focus was on him completely in return. It was… a little exhilarating. He wanted to keep Silverpaw’s attention on him, even as his fur puffed with irritation at Silverpaw’s goading.

Then Silverpaw was racing forward, ducking underneath him before Hawkpaw had the chance to react to it. Hawkpaw tensed, hissing low as he thrashed to get Silverpaw away from him, the most vulnerable part of him suddenly exposed to Silverpaw. It was a disgusting feeling, such intense vulnerability, and Hawkpaw wanted Silverpaw far away from him.

Hawkpaw’s thrashing seemed to do something in preventing Silverpaw from landing a proper blow, and Hawkpaw danced away once Silverpaw wiggled out from underneath him with no significant injury to show for it. Heart still racing from the close call, Hawkpaw acted on instinct as Silverpaw moved to right himself once more. Hawkpaw leapt forward and pounced on Silverpaw once more, using a sharp blow to knock the off-balance Silverpaw down.

Breathing hard, Hawkpaw moved forward and planted a paw right on Silverpaw’s flank. He’s not experienced with spars personally, but he’s watched enough to know when they reach their end. “I win.” He said. Far from cocky, the words are delivered simply, and to the point. Then, with a little more emotion in his tone, “Memorable enough for you?” He lifted his paw off and backed off a few paces.

Hawkpaw used Front Paw Strike, dealing -6 damage and costing -7 SP. Hawkpaw wins!

He could just leave it there, his point proven, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky and indicating that the business of the day would begin soon. He could walk away and go to sleep with his energy spent on a spar. But he liked Silverpaw’s attention being on him. Even if Silverpaw is irritating and sharp, his eyes were on Hawkpaw alone. And Hawkpaw wanted to keep them there, even when Silverpaw’s eyes are boring into him like that. He’s used to cats looking at him with irritation, anger, even hatred… But never for long. They always look away. He doesn’t want Silverpaw to look away.

“What do you say to two out of three?” Hawkpaw said, tail swishing through the dirt as he crouched down. “Since you pulled me out here, I'm guessing I'm the best entertainment you have too. I bet that you can do better than that, can’t you?” He goaded, the same as Silverpaw had been goading him. Hawkpaw felt energy tingling right to the tips of his paws. He thinks he might be having fun. At the very least, the adrenaline he’s feeling right now is making him feel like something sharp and uncontainable.