Preparation - open/sparring + war paint

[Morgan]

Morgan stared off into the sea as the evening sunlight danced across its deep blue waves. On the coast there was a sort of peace the samoyed could not find it in himself to describe; it was home to him, but there was something more to it. Regardless of his feelings, the dog turned around to look inland. He had previously announced that some sort of Lunar Festival event was to be held at the shore near his cave, but he did not say what it would entail. He hoped that some interested Tanglers would arrive, though whether they'd actually want to fight or not was uncertain.

In his loudest bark, Morgan shouted, "Fellow Tanglers, today we will be sparring!" He looked around, hoping his various creations would at least get someone's attention if his voice did not. All around him were some ice sculptures of various Tanglers, all crude but still recognizable. "For upcoming raids - or if we ever need to defend our home and our comrades - we will need to train!" The dog took a breath before finishing up his yelling. "There's target practice too, in case you need it! And..." He nudged open a nearby crate, which revealed some dyes and paint. "... I brought some paint, too, so we can paint or camouflage ourselves." There were plenty of options for any willing Tanglers, which Morgan had made sure of; he wanted it to be enough stuff for anyone to join in regardless of skill level or recency.

[madster]

malphas padded over, eyes bloodshot and sore. a sadness ran through him, even with things that excited him were drowned in his grief. how could beck have been so casual about it? she's gone, we've hired two people to replace her, that's it, he thought, paraphrasing beck. no matter how many nurses there were, no matter how big the medical team was, they could never replace her.

sparring? a quick, suicidal thought ran through him. maybe he'd have somebody kill him in a sparring match and everyone would think it was an accident and nobody would be truly sad, because he wasn't gone, he was dead. he had an end to his story, he didn't know about nayru. she was just gone. malphas had found a mask for himself- despite not ever actually beating the graveyard challenge, he wore it. it was a blood-stained surgeon's mask, fitting for his occupation.

"i'll be making sure nobody gets too hurt," he said bluntly in his usual tone of voice, glancing over at morgan as he sat down next to him. looking at him now, he simply muttered "maybe next time i'll fight. i'm not in the mood." he hoped morgan would understand.

[cherrypaw.]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:400px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px;"]the tiny, candy-colored tom figured he might as well do something with his time. cherry had been doing a whole lot of not a lot recently. he paced on over to the source of the masked samoyed's voice, blue eyes displaying a clear interest in whatever morgan may be announcing.

sparring? he figured he must've done this before, after living for nearly four years. alas, cherry could not remember the specifics. his mind had grown increasingly hazy concerning the past after he had suddenly awoke in tanglewood. cherry would likely dampen his mood entirely if he focused too hard on the fact that his memory was seemingly being destroyed. which is why he chose not to do that.

"sparring?" yeah, we're starting another paragraph with that word. get over it. cherry mumbled out loud, asking a one-word question to nobody in particular. maybe he'd join in, maybe he wouldn't. who knows. not cherry.

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[SOCKING]

STOCKING ANARCHY

✯ — if you don't fuck with us then motherfuck you

space

stocking, all unsteady gait and awkward walk, limped forward, paws pressing into the gritty earth by the seashore.

oddly enough, stocking had never been averse to fighting. she had no trouble dealing with the physical, nor with getting down and dirty. the only issue was that she had been used to fighting with her swords, and now with those gone, she only had her bare strength and tactics to aid her in a fight. which probably wouldn't be much, considering she had no powers of her own as of now, while she was perceptive when it came to other things, she wasn't sure if those tactical capabilities extended in battle. stocking had been deadly, yes, but she could probably fight a beached whale and still lose.

yet she still wanted to try her hand at sparring. sure, she was still injured, but her leg was well on it's way to being healed, and it wasn't like her clanmates were out to grievously injure her. at least she hoped.

but then as her cyan gaze slid to the healer, malph's words came echoing into her head. she should be resting. not trying anything until she was at full health. perhaps she was thinking too much on it, but it would simply be dickish of her to stress out the other felidae and give him more work should she get injured again. she'd stay put for now.

if anything, she could watch. see how they did it, and perhaps assimilate their techniques into her own for the future.

"i won't be participating," stocking announced, making a move to sit for the sidelines.

space

✯ — female. tanglewood. moderate difficulty. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[IVAN Z. BRAGINSKY]

IVAN ZIMAVICH BRAGINSKY ✧ russian bear dog — regent — tags[/color]

Zimavich appeared wearing his mask, the skull-like top half and the bottom half giving three inch long incisors to the bottom. He put corks on these teeth, of course, to avoid harming his clan mates.
”Fight!!” The dog howled excitedly, tail wagging and approaching the others. His mud covered fur and musky smell loomed over, smelling the war paint.

© madi

[arrow]

Sparring? Like, fighting right? Just no one actually got hurt. Arrow guessed it was for preparation, in case a fight did break out between Tanglewood and whoever else. She was really a part of this bitch now, it was about time to start carrying her weight around here. "Yo, I'll participate." She cracked her neck after making her way over, shifting her shoulders to move the stuff muscles around. Yeah, she could definitely use something to stretch herself out.

Was she any good at fighting? She didn't know. She'd held her own against others her size before, but she didn't have muscle mass or size on her side, hell, she was a twig. She was more of a scavenger or a hunter, not much for a defensive team. Not like Swamp Dog, covered in mud and as dog like as ever. It was endearing, she just hoped he didn't squish anyone by accident. "Paint? Well shit. Tanglewood doesn't play."

★ we should be lovers instead  ━

[Morgan]

"Yes, everyone. Sparring." If he didn't know better, Morgan would have thought that everyone was just mocking him. "Today we'll be having some different rules from normal sparring. Usually, it is either everyone fighting against each other, or one fighting against one at a time." He smirked as he turned up his nose, shaking his head before relaxing his head again. "No, we'll be doing something more interesting. We'll be practicing something that I've never seen in my short life: teamwork."

The samoyed stepped between Zimavich, Arrow, and Vigenere, turning around a few times to look at each of them. "I'll be putting you all into teams of two or three, and you will fight each other. I will not allow excessive force; if anyone thinks they are good enough to take down their fellow Tanglers, then clearly they should be able to do it without having to go too hard on them." Looking at nobody in particular, he added, "And remember, I will be the one upholding these laws. If anyone breaks them, there will be consequences."

He counted up the number of volunteers. "We still need at least one more volunteer to start. Anyone who didn't want to spar can either do target practice or work on painting themselves - their choice."

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[Morgan]

"Who would the fourth fighter be, Vigenere?" Morgan asked. "Cherry? He never really volunteered, and everyone else said they wouldn't join." He turned to Cherrypaw next and asked, "Would you like to spar? If so, we'll have enough to participate. I would appreciate it a lot." He stepped closer and looked him in the eye, then added, "Still, it's your choice." He looked back at Vigenere and gave him a wink.