[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf | Closed

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 2, 2016 18:21:07 GMT

Post by feeling kinda blue on Mar 2, 2016 18:21:07 GMT

Success and praise were rare things to come from Whitewolf. They were like half-visible ghosts like what the elders would tell spooky stories about. The words were there, they got spoken, just not very loudly or very often. You had to squint until your eyes crossed, strain your ears until your ears rang with silence. Shellpaw had gotten used to it a little bit because Lionpaw could be the same way, giving backhanded compliments and shady praise. Still, Shellpaw watched her mentor quietly and wondered what exactly she'd have to do to earn outright praise from the snowy cat. Probably sprout wings and fly. The thought nearly made the young calico giggle but she bit her tongue to keep the sound in, trying to focus on the task at hand. Easier said than done when she kept imagining cats with iridescent butterfly wings flying all over the territory. It was so silly.

Battle training was probably Shellpaw's least favorite kind of training, that much was becoming very clear. She felt clumsy on her feet when Whitewolf invited her to attack but it was even worse when the big tom decided to attack her first. A momentary flash of panic flared through Shellpaw's belly and her pupils dilated in alarm as the bigger warrior positioned himself. Her muscles tensed under her fur and her mind scrambled. What to do what to do? She couldn't just let Whitewolf ram her, she'd become one with the trees in a way she never wanted to. It would be really painful. Whitewolf probably wanted her to do something complicated, think of something clever but Shellpaw wasn't clever. She'd tried to remind him of this from time to time when they shared meals at the end of a long day of training when her skin was blushed with bruises under her fur. Whitewolf either didn't believe her or didn't listen. Maybe he just forgot. Still, Shellpaw couldn't think of what to do so, when Whitewolf rushed forward the small she-cat threw herself to the right. Her paws slid on the loose riverbank sand but she was able to keep her balance.

A grin split her muzzle as Shellpaw realized she'd successfully dodged the white tom and managed to keep her feet under her. Heart pounding, feet lightened by her momentary success, Shellpaw went with her gut and lunged forward as Whitewolf's form surged past. Without really thinking it through the young apprentice's jaws snapped shut...on Whitewolf's tail. In her defense, Shellpaw hadn't planned to bite her mentor's tail. It was generally a bad idea to go snapping at the tails of cats three times your size, cats that could send you tumbling with one solid whack. So no, Shellpaw didn't do it on purpose. Her body had rolled with the momentum of her jump when she'd leapt out of his way and she'd just....done something. No plan, no instinctual gut jerk to tell her what to do. Nope. Shellpaw just did. And within a split second realized that what's she'd done was Not Good.

'Uh oh,' Shellpaw thought, eyes widening as she felt Whitewolf's tail jerk and spasm in her grasp.

NOTES;; so much fluff in this post xD but shell is totally expecting to lose her head over this
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lord wolfscream✰

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☆ THE WHITE WOLF ☆

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 2, 2016 19:55:44 GMT

Post by lord wolfscream✰ on Mar 2, 2016 19:55:44 GMT

    Just as his paw began to descend towards his apprentice’s small head, he sends a small prayer to the dead above that maybe, maybe this time he wouldn’t thwack her to oblivion, that this time perhaps their previous sessions had instilled enough self-preservation for her to at least remove herself from danger.

    Later, in his own time, Whitewolf would have to thank StarClan, because Shellpaw manages to roll to the right by a hair’s breath. He swears he could feel the gentlest graze of calico fur against his paw pads before he came down to the sand awkwardly, being that his attack had gone unrewarded.

    He almost loses himself in feeling eternally grateful that perhaps all his time spent training her had not been for nothing, enough to glance hurriedly to the side to see the flash of light-colored fur jumping for a rear attack. He would have sit to admire the quick succession of a dodge accompanied with a counter attack, were it not that a sharp pain starting from the tip of his tail travels like a crack of lightning through his spine. He unintentionally lets out a rather loud and startled hiss, tail writhing within his captor’s teeth.

    His first instinct is to rip free and retaliate, never minding the sacrifice of a tuft of his fur, send Shellpaw flying into the river (hopefully), but he realizes that this may not be the best reaction. With a few deep breaths, trying to keep the irritating pain out of his mind, trying to keep the rage out of his voice as much as possible, he growls, "Mind letting go?"

    It's one thing to have claws slice your skin, but the prick of a thorn or the bite of a tick could be worlds more painful, for whatever reason. The said tick in this case being Shellpaw.
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Last Edit: Mar 2, 2016 19:57:00 GMT by lord wolfscream✰

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 4, 2016 17:44:10 GMT

Post by feeling kinda blue on Mar 4, 2016 17:44:10 GMT

To be honest when a few heartbeats passed and Shellpaw wasn't sent spinning into the river, the young apprentice was very amazed. Her eyes had been squeezed shut in preparation for being sent flying into the water but when that didn't happen she carefully peeked one eye open. Whitewolf was frozen in place, body twisted around and his sharp amber eyes glaring at her. The way he was breathing looked like he was trying really hard not to be angry. The fur along his spine was stiffened making him look bigger than normal. 'Mind letting go?' The words were spoken carefully and very precisely. It took conscious thought for Shellpaw to unhinge her jaw and release Whitewolf's plume of a tail. Crouching low, belly brushing the sand, Shellpaw scuttled back several paces carefully surveying her paws. Her patched ears laid back against her head and her tail curled close to her body, an red flag for when Shellpaw was feeling uncertain or shaken.

"Sorry Whitewolf," Shellpaw murmured, studying the grains of sand under her feet. "Uh...I don't think...I didn't mean to. Didn't think it through I guess."

Glancing up nervously at her snow-pelted mentor, Shellpaw gave him a small apologetic smile. It had been an accident really, she hadn't thought about it...probably only got his tail because she missed leaping at his flank. Or something. Her body had known what to do when in motion but Shellpaw wasn't good at keeping her brain in motion with her. She'd watched the older apprentices spar last night and they were all so good at keeping their wits about them when they fought. They thought two and three moves ahead, had whole plans and back up plans for getting their enemies where they wanted them. The knew each other's skills and weaknesses. It was amazing. Shellpaw...she didn't think that way. When she was in motion, heart pumping fast, she panicked. It felt like no one was at home in her brain, she was just moving and trying to avoid getting her whiskers ripped off or getting thrown off her feet by her titan of a mentor. How anyone could think in those split seconds between motion, Shellpaw had no idea. She thought in vivid imagination, not kinetics.

"Sorry I'm not very good at this Whitewolf," Shellpaw meowed, shuffling her paws in the sand a bit but sitting up straight again. "I don't think I can think that fast. It's too complicated." Shellpaw wrinkled her nose a bit. "But maybe I'll be better at something else," she meowed brightly, grinning at Whitewolf and bouncing back to her feet. "Can I try again?" Tail swishing high over her back, the young she-cat padded a few more paces away from her mentor and tried to mimic a defensive crouch that he'd shown her a few days ago, assuming he was going to rush her again.

NOTES;; sorry this took so long! shellpaw was initially discouraged and skittish but that didn't fit her personality, I wanted her to be able to bounce back
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lord wolfscream✰

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☆ THE WHITE WOLF ☆

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 5, 2016 0:38:30 GMT

Post by lord wolfscream✰ on Mar 5, 2016 0:38:30 GMT

    Once his tail is released from small jaws, Whitewolf exhales gratefully. He sits briefly to bring the spot where her teeth had sank into before his maw, tongue flashing out to smooth the fur there and ease the dull throb. He pauses in licking to listen to her apology, flicking his ears a bit dismissively. If he’s being completely honest, her bite to his tail while unintentional could prove to be a good distraction when facing one’s opponent. It is likely to enrage more than hurt, and an angry fighter could often be much more bound to make mistakes. On the same paw though, channeling temper into a fight makes one equally unpredictable. Simply, however, he had not expected the chomp to his tail, and he can imagine that she hadn’t thought to do it from a tactical stand point.

    As she offers him a rather sheepish smile, he has a moment of doubt that he had been too harsh in his demeanor. The thought, however, is chased away quickly; Whitewolf isn’t too hard on her, only as hard as he should be. If she couldn’t deal, she would get used to it (or request another mentor).

    His golden eyes visibly pop a little when she returns to a defensive posture. May be a little fighter yet, he reminds himself silently.

    Whitewolf pushes himself back onto all four paws, staring at her evenly and, as he stands before her, the air around him seems to give way to his moons of experience. "Your determination is admirable, heart seems to be in the right place, but," he makes a gesturing motion towards the top of his head with his paw, "focusing your mind is going to be just as important."

    "If you're going to have success today, I need you to think before you act." His voice leaves his throat stern but there is a kind of soothing knowingness in his words.

    With unmatched fluidity, the white-furred mentor slips into a crouch and begins to circle his smaller opponent. His yellow eyes never leave her body for even a heartbeat, great shoulders moving between his pelt with every pawstep. Other then the shift of muscles as he moves around her, the rest of him remains perfectly still. "Think through the scenarios in your head, think about what I could be thinking about, anticipate what I aim to do before I make my move." He lectures while continuing to stalk.
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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 8, 2016 23:31:42 GMT

Post by feeling kinda blue on Mar 8, 2016 23:31:42 GMT

It didn't happen often but sometimes Shellpaw wished she had a gentler mentor, or at least one that wasn't such a good fighter. Whitewolf was amazing on the battlefield, or so Shellpaw had been told. When she'd been assigned to him, the apprentices had spent her first night in the den telling her all about the things their mentors knew about him and things they'd seen. Some, the more battle-inclined apprentices, had been jealous of Shellpaw's good fortune while others, more like Shellpaw who were not so tactically skilled, wished her luck. Generally though Shellpaw didn't mind Whitewolf's fighting and things, it was alright. It got her muscles warmed up under her skin and got her heart pumping but...the things Whitewolf wanted sometimes she doubted she could ever deliver.

Listening as he tutted her inability to think tactically, Shellpaw nearly let out a gusty sigh. She bit her tongue to keep it in and watched her mentor circle around like an actual wolf stalking its prey. This was the part of the lesson Shellpaw actively disliked: when Whitewolf got fed up with her random attempts at not getting concussed and demanded she try to think before she moved. It wasn't because Whitewolf was mean or his tongue got too sharp, those barbs rolled off of Shellpaw, seldom snagging on her, but this part was more exhausting than the physical leaping around.

As Whitewolf circled around, Shellpaw scrambled to find something clever to think of but nothing came. Silence rang in her mind, as it so often did when Whitewolf asked tactical or battle-oriented questions (so: all too frequently). Frankly Shellpaw was overwhelmed by the question because in some respects it wasn't fair. The bigger tom could literally do anything. He was circling around her, body low and moving fluidly over the ground, amber eyes trained on her like those of a hunting hawk. He could do anything. Jump on her back? Why not? Ram into her side? Sure! Take a chomp out of her tail in retaliation? Her tail twitched unconsciously at the thought. He'd probably bite it off by accident.

"I don't know what to do," Shellpaw admitted at last as the minutes of silence stretched between them with Whitewolf circling and circling until Shellpaw was nearly dizzy. "You can do whatever you want! I don't know how I'm supposed to read your mind or body language or whatever!" The words came out in a rush, more frustrated than Shellpaw had meant to sound. Still they rolled off her tongue before she could bite them back. As soon as they escaped though, Shellpaw stiffened, surprised at her own audacity. Her ears laid back and her tail curled close to her hind legs as she looked at the ground, Whitewolf's sharp eyes burning her fur. She hadn't meant to say that out loud...

A blush bloomed under Shellpaw's mostly white fur. She'd been trying so hard to not sound like a whiny, petulant apprentice but all Whitewolf wanted her to do was fight. Well...she tried! And...felt like she was going nowhere. Other apprentices had advised her not to be fussy, to just keep her head down and do what Whitewolf wanted because he would just get snappy with her or tell Magpiestar she wasn't a good apprentice.

"Sorry," Shellpaw mumbled, not looking at her mentor as she shifted her feet back to the defensive crouch. "I'll try harder."

NOTES;; woops lol the truth is out
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Last Edit: Mar 8, 2016 23:31:58 GMT by feeling kinda blue

lord wolfscream✰

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☆ THE WHITE WOLF ☆

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 8, 2016 23:59:24 GMT

Post by lord wolfscream✰ on Mar 8, 2016 23:59:24 GMT

    Whitewolf had been waiting patiently, taking his time with making each forward pawstep seem to take a millennium. He feels as though he were moving through chest-high mud, in slow motion. Now though, as the heartbeats pass, the end of his sore tail flickers to show his impatience. Truly, the warrior had been quite easy on her throughout this lesson, so he thinks. No yelling, no biting remarks and hardly a lick of sarcasm had passed through his maw. Even though his patience had constantly been tested with just the way Shellpaw was, Whitewolf had managed; even though they had completely opposing personalities, he had really tried with her.

    Then, to his surprise, Shellpaw is the one who breaks underneath the growing embers of his twin golden irises. He straightens as the words pour from her like water breaking past a beaver’s dam, ears twitching as he listens on in silence. After the apology and her surrender, Whitewolf cannot help a sigh, closing his eyes.

    Does she not think him just as frustrated? In truth, perhaps the only area he lacks in is having an apprentice, Shellpaw having been his first. It is no secret, after all, that the tom prefers to work alone, but the warriors in RiverClan had been running quite thin and him being of able body and mind left him bound to receive an apprentice sooner, not later. Easy, you’re the grown one, he reminds himself, attempting to quell the childish thoughts of their mentor-apprentice pairing not being fair.

    Learning opportunity, take advantage of it, the internal monologue continues, easing the growing tension within.

    "Shellpaw," he begins, as coolly as he can manage, "if it's too much you have to... tell me." Whitewolf wills his muscles to relax, coming closer to the light-colored apprentice and looking down at her a bit more softly. "Can't read your mind." He murmurs in an echo of her earlier outburst, good-naturedly, of course.
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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 16, 2016 14:57:39 GMT

Post by feeling kinda blue on Mar 16, 2016 14:57:39 GMT

It wasn't in Shellpaw's nature to be a contrary creature, it really wasn't. In general she was agreeable, full of laughter and as easy going as a young one could be. Her outburst felt embarrassing in its foreign-ness and slightly jarring for the little she-cat in part because she wasn't used to being frustrated. Even when Lionpaw was at his most bossy Shellpaw never felt the need to barb her tongue or speak out of turn because above all else he was her brother and she loved him. The same could be said of Whitewolf. He was prone to his colder moods, his gaze seemingly unintentionally icy and his tongue naturally sharp but Shellpaw didn't normally let it get to her. Above all else Whitewolf was her clanmate and most importantly her mentor. Dayflower used to tell Shellpaw and her siblings time and again that when they became apprentices it wasn't their job to make their mentors' lives difficult. They were to work hard, as hard as their mentors pushed them because in the long run it would ensure they survived. Even now, flushed with embarrassment at her outburst, Shellpaw understood that. Whitewolf was hard on her and pushed the fighting because someday it might save her life. For all he was frosty and sharp at times he meant well....Shellpaw just...needed more time and didn't know how to ask for it.

'Shellpaw, if it's too much you have to... tell me.'

Green eyes widened in surprise and jerked up to look at Whitewolf. The big warrior was moving closer, looking at her very carefully.

'Can't read your mind.'

And just like that the clouds parted.

Green eyes lit up with the soft laughter that escaped Shellpaw before she could bite it back. It was the soft giggle of an appeased child, easing the tension from Shellpaw's shoulders and smoothing her scattered nerves. Without thinking the mostly white she-cat butted her head against Whitewolf's broad chest, his long white fur tickling her nose as she purred gently at her mentor. No matter what the rest of the clan said Shellpaw thought Whitewolf was the best mentor. He wasn't perfect but she wasn't either. She was young and clumsy, he was weathered and jaded. It was okay.

"Thanks Whitewolf," Shellpaw purred, leaning back to grin up at her mentor. "Can I try again? I won't panic this time...promise!"

Without really waiting for the tom to reply, Shellpaw bounced back a few paces, tail waving in a lazy S, one of Shellpaw's many tics that showed her soothed mood. She situated her paws in the sand and dropped into a crouch, claws sheathed. Determination settled along her spine and made her stance firmer, stilled her normal energetic fidgeting. Even if it was only once Shellpaw wanted to catch Whitewolf by surprise and make him proud. That would be her goal for training. If she could do that, she'd know she'd earned the right to be a warrior. She could do this. Maybe not with the ferocity her brothers had or the sheer power Whitewolf carried but she'd do it her own way.

NOTES;; this took way too long to post and I'm so sorry
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☆ THE WHITE WOLF ☆

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Mar 16, 2016 16:33:12 GMT

Post by lord wolfscream✰ on Mar 16, 2016 16:33:12 GMT

    A loud, deep call of a bittern sounds somewhere from the direction of the river as the silence stretches between mentor and apprentice. She seems to take a few bloodbeats to process his words, those big eyes the color of a budding sapling widening impossibly, almost comically. It takes some effort not to counter the quick motion of her pressing her slight body into him, his first instinct having been to react as he would in the heat of battle. However, Whitewolf remains completely motionless in her embrace, feeling the soft hum of her purr that resonates against his chest.

    The affection makes him want to squirm, slightly, mostly do to the fact it had been quite largely unexpected. He muses to himself how funny it is the way that Shellpaw could pull herself back from the depths of disappointment and how quickly. It is difficult not to admire it, though Whitewolf also wonders if it is all that healthy for a cat’s personality to spring up and down as a salmon does swimming upstream.

    He clears his throat just as she moves away from him, and he feels himself breathing a little easier as he watches her slip into her battle crouch with a seemingly renewed ease. He copies her, feeling the granules of sand ooze up between his braced toes. His white tail sweeps back and forth, the end flickering, his narrowed eyes are watching her carefully. He sends a quick prayer to StarClan in hopes that she is ready, though just in case, a rumbling, "Here I come."

    Whitewolf bares forward with immense power, back paws striking against the loose ground and sending a spray of sand behind him. It would take mere half-moments to reach her, and he has a kind of sanguine expectation that this time, she'll be able to at least best him in the smallest amount.
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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Apr 1, 2016 0:44:54 GMT

Post by feeling kinda blue on Apr 1, 2016 0:44:54 GMT

She couldn't fight like him, of that Shellpaw was certain. More than certain. StarClan practically spelled it out in the spots of ginger and black that played over Shellpaw's back and flanks. She would never tower over her enemies, never have all the coiled power and strength that the white tom housed without trying. Her pawsteps would never thunder over the ground and no enemy would quake at her approach. Yes, Shellpaw knew these things to be certain but she also knew with the same certainty that Whitewolf wouldn't relent until she tried. Really tried, tried until she could do half of what he could. On some level Shellpaw was honored to have a mentor so devoted that he would push her so hard because he believed she could do what he did. So, Shellpaw tracked him and waited, trying to think of what to do. She lacked the power and raw strength Whitewolf wielded so deftly but...she was quick and she'd already managed to surprise him once today. He knew the traditional battle forms backwards and forwards, could probably execute a full spar routine in his sleep. But...

Shellpaw had grown up with lots of siblings. Scrappy sisters, brawling brothers. This one on one play (battle as Whitewolf would call it), wasn't familiar but Shellpaw knew how to scrap in a pile. She wasn't the biggest or oldest of her siblings so she had to get creative when Sunpaw, Lionpaw, Briarheart and Lotuspool all decided to have a sibling brawl. It was the same thing here. Just...multiple Whitewolf. Make more of him, limit her options because when she had too many she panicked.

Whitewolf charged and...Shellpaw moved.

Narrow it down: fewer choices...

Whitewolf liked to charge from the front, confident he could mow her down a lot like Lionpaw. He owned the battlefield unlike Sunpaw that tended to hang back and pounce after Lionpaw, taking his lead from the bigger brother. 'It's the same thing' Shellpaw told herself, pouncing to the left as Whitewolf charged forward like a white bull. It was habit to move left rather than right because Sunpaw tended to shadow Lionpaw on the right making that a non-option. So, Shellpaw jumped left and as soon as her paws hit the sand she pushed herself forward, leaping at Whitewolf's shoulder. She rolled her shoulder and threw her entire pitiful body weight into Whitewolf's haunch.

Normally...normally there was a lot less of a headache associated with this move because even though he was bigger Lionpaw was still smaller than a fully grown warrior. Headbutting him in the flank usually led to Shellpaw and her brother tumbling to the ground, all flailing limbs and halfhearted yowls. That was not the case with Whitewolf as Shellpaw learned in quick order. She hit him, she felt it....but she also bounced back. The world was a whirlwind of sand and sky as Shellpaw tumbled to the ground until she came to a stop, sprawled out on her side blinking sand out of her eyes. Pushing herself to sit up, Shellpaw let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head to get the sand off of her ears. She'd done it! Not all of it but hey it was something.

lord wolfscream✰

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☆ THE WHITE WOLF ☆

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[a girl worth fighting for] whitewolf Apr 4, 2016 20:16:37 GMT

Post by lord wolfscream✰ on Apr 4, 2016 20:16:37 GMT

    Whitewolf seldom uses a frontal assault unless he wants his next blow to be all power. However, in this case, with an apprentice, it is mostly to give her an easy way out like a dodge roll or a dodge and counter attack maneuver. If Shellpaw had been larger, she could also have met him head on, though this would be a riskier considering that one: she is very small, and two: if you are not fast enough to meet blow for blow, you could end up at the mercy of your attacker’s swing rather easily without so much as leaving a scratch on them.

    In an actual fight, he would have laced his movements with pirouettes and light, airy footwork to distract and dazzle, capture attention long enough to land rather solid hits. He would make it all but impossible to be hit (unless he wants them to, in which case he could counter properly), dipping and dodging as if he were an intangible mist that left his image behind for an attacker to strike as opposed to the real thing. Whilst another cat might call him a bit showy, Whitewolf never makes a fruitless move in battle. A part of him wants to pass this on, but with the way their training had gone the last few times, he is unsure of Shellpaw will ever come close to his own level.

    However, as if in direct opposition to his thoughts, he observes as the calico and white she-apprentice sidesteps to her left with a small hop. Whitewolf lands where her body was only heartbeats before, crashing into the malleable sand. Immediately a weight buffets him on his right flank. He grunts, his sturdy form hardly moving, however, but the shoulder-first attack does leave him gulping in a rush of air that had been knocked from him upon her impact.

    Piercing, gold eyes move to where she had somersaulted backwards and landed on her flank in a spray of sand. Whitewolf feels the prickle of worry along his spine in the same moment he takes a few pawsteps her way, but then relief washes over him and takes with it his concern as she pushes herself upward and shakes granules from her short coat. It had not been… the best plan, but the important bit is that she had reacted quickly, quickly enough to save her from his own weight falling on her.

    Despite the hankering want to inform her that it would be foolish to think that she could have knocked a warrior of his size over, the bubble of laughter that leaves her throat makes him smile (albeit a little begrudgingly) in return. "Good work." He offers, coming up next to her and helping her back onto her paws with a nudging of his shoulder. Whitewolf flicks his tail over her in praise, brief praise but praise nonetheless. "Bet you're glad you didn't use your head for that one." He mews and then adds with a chuckle, "Literally, that is."
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