{imagining batt!e cries.} dunepaw.

[LYNX ♥]

The tall, emerald grass was pale with the frost that laced each blade, glittering as it melted with the rising of the morning sun, which spilled its milky gold rays onto the vast moorland and highlighting the sleek pelts of a handful of cats who were out and about at the early hour. Though most who wandered about seemed aimless and lost, sleep still clouding their squinting eyes, one particular cat stood out from the rest, for he was panting, not heavily, but his long pink tongue lolled rather comically from his open maw, and his shamrock-green eyes were bright and shining. Though his paws set about to their usual aching, the warrior felt ever so much better after his morning run, he was astonished that more cats hadn't picked up his lifelong habit, although he could acknowledge that most cats were rather growly at dawn, unlike himself.
Fleetfoot's soft sense of humor suddenly shimmered deep within his dazzling emerald gaze, a smirk fluttering across his broad, friendly features while his plan formulated within his mind. Of course! His new apprentice, Dunepaw, would be looking forward to some training. Fleetfoot wasn't entirely sure what Slatestar had been thinking when she assigned him an apprentice due to his weak battle skills and push-over like disposition, but the black and white tom couldn't help but feel overwhelming excitement. Dunepaw was surely feel the same! Although Fleetfoot wasn't sure the younger tom would feel that way so early in the day, he couldn't help himself, he set off at a rather bouncing pace toward the apprentice den.
"Dunepaw," the tom purred softly, peeking inside of the cramped hollow, darkness blotting out his vision for a moment, until his eyes adjusted. Still, it was difficult to find his apprentice for the young cat's sable pelt but at last, Fleetfoot spied the black-coated tom and gingerly picked his way between the slumbering lumps of fur that filled the den to Dunepaw's nest, and raised a forepaw to prod his shoulder, "Dunepaw."

[Dusk]

In the early hours of morning it was never too surprising that few cats were out. Getting up early was not exactly pleasant, with dew fresh on the grass to dampen and weigh down one's paws as they walked. No, it was much more pleasant in the morning to simply sleep for a while and enjoy dreams of whatever the cat fancied.

The apprentice stood on the moorland, sun high overhead and the wind blowing past his head. The breeze carried with it the mouthwatering scent of rabbit. There was nothing more pleasant than the satisfaction brought on by the capture of one's own prey. The tom crouched down as he spotted a brown pelt, taking small, measured steps forward as he closed the distance between himself and his prey. He'd only have so long on the open moor before the rabbit spotted him and the true chase began. Suddenly the rabbit stiffened and bolted, brown eyes wide as Dunepaw sprang after it. The apprentice closed the distance and, reaching out with a paw, managed to trip up his prey. The tom was just about to deliver the killing bite to the creature's throat when it spoke his name,"Dunepaw..." The near black tom paused. Since when did prey speak; especially in such a calm tone? The rabbit repeated his name; as it did Dunepaw realized something was not quite right.

"Hmm?" The apprentice opened a bleary gold eye, giving his vision a moment to refocus. As the world around him un-blurred and shapes regained clarity he realized that someone was standing over him. "Oh!" the exclamation flew from his jaws as he jerked awake. His entire body jumped as he uncurled in surprise and raised his head. The wild look in the apprentice's eyes faded as he recognized the white and black face and warm gaze of his mentor. "Oh, good morning, Fleetfoot," Dunepaw said quietly looking around the den to make sure his sudden awakening had not woken up any of the neighboring apprentices.

[/blockquote]

[LYNX ♥]

A good-natured purr rumbled in the long-bodied tom's chest, working up into his throat while he swept his frosty white tail in an arc, placing it against his maw whilst making a soft shh noise. He had hardly been able to contain his own chuckle of amusement as the swarthy apprentice practically leapt into consciousness, as though a badger was breaking down the den. To satisfy the laughter building within him, Fleetfot shot the younger tom a broad grin, then turned about and once more picked his way deftly between slumbering apprentices, flicking his tailtip for Dunepaw to fall in behind him.
As he left the cramped apprentice den behind, Fleetfoot finally let the smile fall from his soft visage, but the pleased glimmer never left his brightly-hued gaze, becoming even more prominent when he glanced over his shoulder, then abruptly turned and faced the golden-eyed tom. Fleetfoot cocked his head. Suddenly his enthusiasm to be training a young cat melted away into an approaching tide of nervousness, and he blinked almost helplessly. How could he possibly find it in his heart to attack a defenseless young cat, especially a pleasant little apprentice like Dunepaw? The ZephyrClan warrior blinked again, and then raised a forepaw to his tongue, rapidly drawing it over one ear and then the other, buying time for himself, buying time to prepare himself. How had he not felt this way before? He realized the black apprentice was still before him, certainly he was waiting.
Fleetfoot finally met Dunepaw's topaz gaze, and smiled again, though this time the expression was one of uncertainty. "I hope you know you're my first apprentice," He chuckled, managing to keep humor strong in his deep voice. "But don't worry about it, we'll do just fine. But um, I know this is sort of out of the ordinary, but I was thinking we'd work a little with battle moves. Just the basic ones, I mean," You're rambling, Fleety. An inner voice softly reminded him. The white and black warrior cleared his throat, "Well, I mean obviously I'll be showing you around the territory, but I think we can squeeze in a little sparing." He motioned toward the camp entrance, and dipped his head for Dunepaw to come along, then set off again.

[Dusk]

Dunepaw gave a slight grin as Fleetfoot proceeded to quiet him after his initial outburst, glad he could hide his mild embarrassment with the smile while his skin grew hot beneath his pelt. Within moments the apprentice had shrugged off the nerves, though, and stood to follow the sable-patched tom out of the den. He craned his neck to give the still ruffled fur at his chest a few smoothing licks and wandered after the newly made mentor.

Shrug it off; move along. So went his favorite phrase for managing an easily frayed personality. Even so there was a trace of doubt that left his stomach churning with unease. Would Fleetfoot be impatient with him in training. The dark apprentice knew that his mentor was renowned for his gentle nature, but the apprentice fretted anyways. His jumpiness... the slight, limp...clumsiness from being unused to his lankiness. Any number of things might push Fleetfoot over the edge for all he knew. Stupid, stop worrying or you'll make things worse.

With a blink, the tom returned to reality and realized the older tom was speaking. With dismay the apprentice realized the white and black cat had discussed battle training. Of course, it was a part of the training regimen of all apprentices and therefore unavoidable, but Dunepaw still disliked the thought. Battle... was it anything but useless bloodshed? Keeping the look of cheerful eagerness on his face he followed without hesitation giving a quick, "Alrighty then. Trotting slightly to keep up with the larger tom Dunepaw found himself searching for something to say as they walked. There was one idea that kept rising in his head, though he was not sure whether it was alright to ask. Well, one way to find out. Are you as nervous as I am, he asked quickly, before he had the chance to hesitate and then just fail to ask at all.

[LYNX ♥]

If there was one thing that the warrior loved the most, it was the sensation of damp moorgrass tugging and licking at his short pelt, although the feeling was considerably less pleasant in the dead of winter, now tht new-leaf was well into the sky and leaves and wildlife, Fleetfoot remembered all over again just how much he adored his home. Glancing over, he flicked his tail in a lazily manner, beckoning his apprentice to walk closer so that he could talk in hushed tones and Dunepaw would become accustomed to seeing the natural prey that feasted on the lush grassland. He met the young tom's golden gaze and shot him a shaky smile, "Petrified," he replied to the apprentice's inquiry, allowing a broad grin to break across his maw, his ivory teeth glittering almost wolfishly, "Probably worse, actually," he added with all honesty, shrugging as he said this, for there was no use fretting over it.
He continued across the meadow in relative silence, though on occasion he made notes about their position, pointing his student in the direction of camp although anyone could detect their base's location for the thick scent of cats. Fleetfoot nodded toward minor landmarks, knowing fully that Dunepaw could never absorb every ounce of information in one day, but didn't mind. In time, the young ZephyrClan cat would learn the territory better than he knew his own pelt.
Finally, Fleetfoot stopped in the middle of a broad, flat of shorter grass, studded with brilliantly hued wildflowers who timidly blossomed so early in the season. "You know what you were saying, about being nervous? Well you haven't got a thing to be nervous about. I, however, have to recall all the way back to my earliest moons so I can remember how my mentor trained me." Fleetfoot paused, and then shook his head with a light grin, "Maybe next time we come out here we'll bring another warrior with. I'm really hardly good with battle moves, but I've stayed alive this long so I suppose I've got a few basics I can show you." There was still the ring of a silence chuckle in his voice, perhaps his nerves buzzing within his ears were making his attitude even lighter than ever, after all it was no use pretending, and no use getting upset.
"Alright, so.. um. StarClan above, where do I start? Okay Dunepaw, first we have to do a little pretending. How about we pretend I'm a lot bigger and fiercer?" He laughed, glancing as his own lithe, softly edged frame and knew his emerald gaze held nothing close to the malice it would require to be considered fierce. "Good luck with that," He purred, then curled his tailtip. Of course they could have fun, surely apprentice-mentor relationships weren't harsh and formal, so they might as well learn to lighten up around one another. "And should big, fierce me suddenly appear out of no where, fangs beaed and dripping blood, you're obviously going to be terrified. Probably freeze up, and that's a big problem. You see, hesitation gives your opponent an enormous advantage. I'm what I like to call a defensive fighter. I don't go on the attack, I only fight to stay alive, and I'm picking a little of the same attitude from you. Should you see a big, terrifying cat you need to react, and it doesn't even matter how. Scream, run around, send random blows if he attacks right away. Gaping like a mouse-brain doesn't help anyone," He purred, and realized he was giving Dunepaw a lot to take in.
"I'm sorry. You'll learn eventually. Practice makes perfect, and we'll keep working on it. Just absorb as much as you can, I suppose." Fleetfoot shook his head helplessly, then went on, "So basically, make a big scene. You probably won't be able to take on a big scary rogue all on your own, so making noise will bring help, and keep moving, you're small and that helps a lot. You're faster than he will be, even with that limp," The warrior added encouragingly. "Why don't you run to that little spruce over there as fast as you possibly can, for me? I just wanna see how quick you can be, I could give some good pointers, too." Nodding, Fleetfoot beckoned for Dunepaw to do as ordered.

[Dusk]

Relief flooded the apprentice at his mentors easy reply. At least he wasn't alone, though it seemed Fleetfoot was doing better at handling the situation than he was. Either way, though, Dunepaw found himself relaxing a bit. Perhaps now he could focus better on the training. Allowing golden eyes to flit across the moor as they walked, he fought the urge to break off running after plump-looking prey. All in good time, were he to try and catch something with little more practice than his kit games he'd likely end up scaring the prey of the whole territory off.

He wasn't too intimidated by the flood of information overloading his senses. Learning the lay of the land was something that would have to come naturally to him over the course of many patrols. The dark-furred tom took a moment to part his jaws and allow the scents of the territory to brush his palette. Zephyrclan scent was mingled with the smells of prey and greenery. Not as thick or comforting as it was in the camp, but still there.

The grass beneath his paws pricked at his pads as it changed from the lush, longer, less-traversed path to the well-trodden, shorter grass of the training area. Well, they were where they needed to be. Leaning back on his haunches as he listened to the older tom speak he found himself smiling slightly. There was a moment where he worried at the mention blood-thirsty rouges, but relief came quickly at the mention of defensive fighting, or even running for help. It seemed turning and facing the enemy was not the only option. For a moment, though, the apprentice had to wonder; would he freeze up at the first sign of an attacker? Even with his mentors advice of "react" he could imagine failing to do so. He gave a slow blink, that would be something he'd find out over time he guessed.

Returning his focus to the black and white tom, Dunepaw realized that he was being given instructions. "O-Okay," he replied quietly; turning towards the tree. Readying himself, the tom hesitated. Nerves got the better of him for a few moments as he worried about his bad paw ruining the run. Inwardly he shook his head. "Stop fretting." Paws moved of their own accord for a moment as he forced himself forward with no more chance for backing down. He dashed forward and closed the distance between himself and the tree with relative ease. In hindsight -he realized as he came to a stop among the roots of the spruce- he probably should have measured the distance between himself and the tree before running. Or maybe not... now he wasn't sure. Well, one way to find out. He looked up and turned his golden gaze to Fleetfoot. "Was that alright?" he called, hesitating as to whether or not he should walk back over to the warrior.

[LYNX ♥]

The long-bodied warrior swelled with a warm mixture of pride and fear when he observed his new student devouring each word so attentively. Could he handle this eager young tom, looking up to him for wisedom he ought to be teaching? Fleetfoot shivered. He wasn't sure he could. Still, it was undeniably pleasant to know someone wanted to hear what he had to say so badly, and the feeling almost brought something like smugness to the black-patched white tom, as his shamrock hued gaze glittered appreciatively.
The tom couldn't help but laugh lightly at Dunepaw's frayed nerves, but he was glad the apprentice tried to patch them on his own, rather than fretting all about like a tizzied queen. Fleetfoot dipped his head, motioning for the younger tom to go ahead, and then he did. The small ebony tom was undoubtedly quick, just as the warrior knew he would be, for the characteristic size of ZephyrClan cats would aid anyone in the clan, young or old, the agility necessary to make an escape of any sort. Still, Fleetfoot had been momentarily worried for the limp Dunepaw seemed to have, but his worries were erased as the apprentice reached the tree across the meadow, turning around and seeking his mentors approval. Of course, he was a bit slower than the average apprentice, just as the warrior had known he would be, but it wouldn't hinder him should he have to take flight from an enemy.
"Come on back," Fleetfoot replied to Dunepaw's uncertain call, and the warrior lashed his tail in a friendly manner. "Excellent. Of course you'll need to work on it, practice makes perfect y'know, but I think you'll do just fine." Fleetfoot rolled his shoulder, tilting his head from one side to the other, and then braced his self. "And that's exactly what you'll need to do if you encounter someone you oughtn't. That, and yowl at the top of y'lungs. I take a run every morning before the sun rises, you're always free to join me," he winked, knowing the young tom would scrabble for an excuse to sleep in later, but then quickly changed the subject, "However, what if you're on patrol and there's an attack? You'll need to fight if you're not sent to camp t'get help, so we'll practice some basic moves, alright?" He drew a deep breath, and then met Dunepaw's golden gaze, "So go on and attack me."

[Dusk]

A slight grin crept across his dark maw at the sound of mentor's praise. For a moment the smile threatened to become a full -fledged ears-to-ear grin, but the apprentice resisted the urge. Even so, he felt proud of himself. Sure, next to an unhindered Zephyrclan cat he was likely slower, but for now there was time to enjoy a little satisfaction. Who knew? Maybe with time he'd nearly equal... no, best not get his hopes up. It was not wise to compare himself to other apprentices so early on.

Instead Dunepaw padded over to his mentor. He was taking well to the black-patched tom. The warrior's gentle, friendly manner helped relax him; maybe that was why Slatestar had placed him under Fleetfoot's tutelage. Well, no matter what the case he knew he had to learn to stay calm in some situations. Briefly the tom wondered how Fleetfoot felt about fighting. Probably it wasn't his favorite solution either, though as a warrior he'd probably fought numerous times. Yowl and run... The advice sounded useful enough. Even if a rouge came along and didn't listen to sense, he had a solution now. Maybe joining the mentor on his morning run would be constructive, but he also got less sleep.

Dunepaw froze as he returned attention to what the sable-patched warrior was saying. Attack him? Golden eyes widened in shock. He should have seen this coming, but somehow the tom had pushed the idea out of his mind as soon as the option of running had come along. He parted his jaws slightly, the white gleam of his teeth just showing as he searched for a response. Attack you? he finally managed in a small voice. He abhorred the idea. But there was no way around the necessity. A warriors way of life included fighting. And his mentor had given him and order, after all.

The dark furred tom sighed in defeat. Here goes, he muttered after a moment. The tom took a half-hearted swipe at the older warrior's head; claws sheathed. He moved quickly, but didn't put much force behind the strike.

[LYNX ♥]

The sable-patched tom couldn't help but release a softp urr of amusement at his apprentice's apprehension at the order. Of course, the memory vividly flooded his mind as he saw his own face relfected onto Dunepaw's, he himself was his mentor- a big, rough she-cat named Spottedwing. She had given the same order on their first day of battle training, and then Fleetpaw would have surely fet something similar to what his current student was feeling - fright, confusion. But he knew the young black tom was eager to please, for it seemed that all apprentices were that way, especially on their first day out. There was a daring glint in the warrior's deep green gaze when he peered at his student, who was preparing himself for this so-called attack. Fleetfoot, too, tensed, but he wasn't particularly concerned for himself.
Dunepaw feebly swiped, and the warrior ducked neatly beneath the younger tom's paw, then bobbed up and moved closer in a single movement, placing a forepaw on the sable tom's chest and pressing down, unbalancing the younger cat considerably. With that, he darted away again, and then sat with his long tail curled neatly around his paws, ears pricked. He waited for his apprentice to recover from the haste of the moment, and then Fleetfoot spoke with a hidden purr rasping deep in his voice, "I have a feeling y'weren't trying very hard, lad." He meowed, and then broke into a warm chuckle, shaking his head rather amusedly. The warrior fought to return to his previous composure, and then went on, "I can't blame you for forgetting, but weren't you supposed to be pretending that I was a big, scary rogue?" Fleetfoot asked, meeting Dunepaw's topaz gaze with something like mock seriousness in his deep voice. He cleared his throat, and then stood, "Well? Go ahead, try again."

[Dusk]

It was unsurprising that the warrior had easily avoided the half-hearted blow. There had been no drive for Dunepaw to attack the black-and-white tom. It was hard enough for the apprentice to imagine attacking someone he disliked for whatever reason. A verbal battle was easier and less painful, so typically that was what he turned to. Especially since the cats he disliked tended to be a bit on the thick-headed side.

The sudden retaliation was -unlike his missed attack- completely unexpected. For whatever reason the idea of Fleetfoot striking back had slipped his mind. So a hiss escaped from between his teeth as the apprentice's center of gravity shifted. The sable-furred tom scrabbled to regain balance; when he did he fixed an indignant glare at the dark-patched mentor. "That wasn't fair, with no warning or anything," came the furious reply as Dunepaw settled his ruffled fur. After a moment he realized how stupid that must have sounded. After all, an enemy cat wouldn't walk up and pause in the middle of a battle to say, Okay get ready, I'm going to push you.

Embarrassment both at being shoved and his childish reply allowed his apprehension at attacking to fade away. He blinked, golden gaze darkening as he narrowed his eyes and crouched. The fur on his shoulders bristled as he imagined his mentor as a furious, snarling rouge; attempting to break into the nursery. With a yowl he leaped, aiming at the warrior's shoulders and hitting surprisingly hard. The warrior was bigger and heavier than him, unsurprising that the landing had been a bit like hitting a wall.

[LYNX ♥]

The bigger tom let off a bright mrrow of laughter, his coat bristling as he tensed, holding in the chuckles that threatened to burst from his maw at his apprentice's complaint, "Oh Dunepaw!" He purred, lashing his long white tail from one flank to that other, causing his hindquaters to sway as well, "Do you think badgers and foxes are gonna ask permission to eat your ear off?" He calmed his guffaws, but the glitter of mirthe was still displayed bright in his emerald gaze as he shifted his weight, preparing for another attack on the smaller tom's end. His forelegs tensed, hend end raised into the air, and the sudden impact hit him in a quick flurry of short black fur mixing with his own predominantly white pelt, small paws heavily pressing down on his shoulders.
Fleetfoot found himself reacting with surprising ease and haste for his known reputation with battles being quite bad. The long-bodied tom allowed the momentum of his apprentice to push him backward, lifting both of his own forepaws to latch them in a returning grip against Dunepaw's as he carried the small apprentice with him as he tumbled into a backward summersault. The warrior then, of course, landed on top, pinning the smaller tom down with a pleased smile lancing across his slender maw. He clambered off, and shook out his short alabaster-and-black pelt, then sat once more and set about to washing his ears and the soil from his chest. He spoke between draws of his tongue, "Very," He started, then twitched an ear, "very nice! I couldn't say I'm not impressed," He purred, contorting smoothly to draw dust off of his spine, and washing away grit from the base of his tail, then turned again to face his student, "Obviously y'strategy will need some work, but of course this being your first session, I'm pleased. Remember to follow through. I know I didn't give you much of a chance there, but in the future we'll work on that as well. You'll need t'begin t'guess what your opponent may do after you make an attack, and then react accordingly."
He stood, again shook himself like a dog - which could be seen as quite a silly action from a cat - and then fell into a neat battle-ready stance once more. "Well? Let's give 'er a few more shots and then we'll head back t'camp, yes?"

[Dusk]

The attack came and went startlingly quick. It was a shock to Dunepaw how little time there was to think during a battle. Now that he gave the idea a second thought, was there really time for thought at all? Or was it all just act and react? The only thing the sable-furred apprentice could say for sure was that his mentor's response to the leap had not been expected. The golden-eyed tom had thought maybe the mostly white warrior would move out of the way and jump him when he landed, or maybe Fleetfoot would swat the apprentice out of the air. Though the latter idea was a bit much. The last thing he'd expected was for the tom to catch him and flip backwards, his apprentice's momentum to his own advantage. Showed just how little Dunepaw understood when it came to fighting.

Sitting now, catching his breath and watching the sable-patched mentor as he went through a quick grooming, he worked to remember each battle tip given to him by the older cat. "Think ahead, and react to what you think the enemy'll do," he repeated after a moment. Some part of his mind considered the idea that the near-black tom should groom too, but then rejected the thought. Why bother grooming when they would likely have another round of attacks in a moment? So he sat, fur dusted with soil, and waited for his mentor to finish grooming.

His ears flattened for a fraction of second at the thought of another scuffle, although he had already known it was going to happen. Dunepaw took a moment to breathe and crouched, thinking things through. Obviously he couldn't go for the same mode of attack again, it was too likely. He shifted his weight side-to-side, weaving slightly as he considered what he could do. Then the apprentice darted forward, keeping low to the ground. His gait lurched oddly in this position thanks to his paw, but didn't hinder him. He slipped beneath the tom, smaller size working to his advantage for once, and pushed upwards with muscles in neck and shoulder muscles straining.

[LYNX ♥]

The soft-hued, periwinkle dome overhead, so smooth and cloudless when they had meandered onto the training meadow, had darkened into a deep cerulean, still smooth like velvet draped overhead, but now dappled with various cotton-white clouds that raced languidly from horizon to horizon. The tom didn't have a moment to observe the beauty of his homeland, though, because he was far too inerested in observing the telltales signs of his apprentice's next move, and this interested him far more than the puffy blots that passed across the sky. It wasn't as though he was concerned, but concentrating on young Dunepaw was more crucial, or so it seemed, than drifting into his usual daydreamer state, taking on the glassy-eyed look anyone could so often find adorning him. Fleetfoot shook his head. No, now was the time to train. Later would be a lovely date to frolick and dream.
Though the warrior first thought the little black tom would attempt another full-on body force as he had before, and would force Fleetfoot to explain why such a little fellow could so rarely pull such a move off, but instead the younger fellow darted low, sliding easily beneaththe black-and-white warrior, then bucking about. The older tom nearly laughed, but remembered the task at hand, and spun around, deftly kicking the smaller tom before sidestepping around him. The warrior considered allowing the scuffle to end there, but disregarded the impulse and instead devised a sharp counterattack - darting forth to land a smart blow to Dunepaw's cap, claws still safely sheathed. He swiftly danced away and then crouched, his soft green gaze hardened into a playful challenge, silently daring Dunepaw to make another move. His tail lashed behind him in a snakelike manner, urging the golden-eyed apprentice onward.

//short, my bad. :C

[Dusk]

So much for throwing the larger tom off-balance. The near black tom grunted as a hind paw made contact with his side. Best back out now before the warrior decided to drop down on him; that was the biggest disadvantage to this style of attack: opening oneself up for being crushed. That much he knew without being told. Dunepaw had just ducked down when the mentor maneuvered away from him. Expecting this round to be over, the lanky tom stood to take up the space where Fleetfoot had been a moment ago. In he return he got a blow to the head. Golden eyes watered from the blow, and he shook himself briskly in an attempt to dispel the slight pain.

This time the dark furred tom bounced backward, leaving more space between the two of them so he had a moment to think. Not that he should think; giving himself too long a break would lead to another refusal to continue the battle. Even so there still need for there to be a quick moment for the apprentice to consider his next move. His options were running dry in the face of a cat with moons more of experience in his paws. For once the tom wished he'd paid more attention to the apprentices when Dunepaw had still been Dunekit.It would have been useful to have watched at times when the apprentices had come along to show off. But no, the young tom hadn't been interested and now he was at a severe lack of ideas for attack.

Paws kneading the ground in frustration, the tom narrowed his eyes to bright gold slits. Maybe, he thought while examining the black-patched tom, a sort of hit-and-run tactic would be good. He had a feeling he'd be fact enough, assuming his paw didn't ruin the move. One way to find out if it was even practical. Dunepaw dashed forward with as much speed as he could muster, and reached out to swipe at Fleetfoot's head with one paw as he dashed by. He wasn't aiming to put much force behind the blow -in fact he'd barely slowed down to deliver it- just enough to make the attack worth the effort. He kept moving forwards after and made a sharp turn to face to warrior again, making another charge. This time, however, as he raised a fore-paw to swat the mentor his bad paw slipped and the blow missed. He let off a startled "Ack!" as the ground came up to meet him and he rolled head-over-tail.

The sable apprentice landed in a heap and raised his head, spitting in disgust at the bitter soil that had collected between his canines. The grains would be nuisance to clear away. He remembered the fact that this was a battle only after a few moments of annoyance and looked up, pelt heating in embarrassment as he met the warriors emerald gaze.

[LYNX ♥]

He knew he'd caught the young tom off-track by not swaying to his attack, and he only faintly regretted it. For though the warrior knew just how entirely wonderful succeeding felt, he knew he oughtn't lead his apprentice to have faith in moves which rarely worked, and so he simply dodged to the side, watching the quizical thoughts flash across the sable apprentice's eyes when he suddenly dove in for a new tactic - Fleetfoot allowed him. It was, of course, better than nothing, but the bigger tom couldn't decide exactly how to deal with his flighty attack. He knew he simply could not stand still, and so he danced about Dunepaw's wayward blows, giving the younger tom the advantage now and then before once more slipping out of range from the random swings dealt his way.
The game that Dunepaw seemed to be unawaringly playing was going along smoothly, or so Fleetfoot thought but suddenly the dark-furred young tom was on the damp grass with shame glowing upon his nose and in the transparent bits of his ears, and the warrior couldn't smother the peal of laughter that erupted from his maw. It wasn't a harsh, derisive laughter that one could expect from a trip such as Dunepaw's, but a good-natured and warm chortle. A jolly flight of laughter that lit the black-and-white tom's brilliant green eyes as they peered into Dunepaw's topaz gaze. "Oh c'mon, little friend. Get up, dust yourself off. I think you've had enough teasing for one afternoon? We might as well head on back to camp." Fleetfoot shook his own thick, short pelt rather like a dog so that a puff of grit tumbled from his coat. He then trotted over to the young apprentice and grinned down at him, twitching his long tail idly.