"Is that aaaall you've got?" Morningstar drawls. She doesn't even look winded. She doesn't even look dirty- but then again, Sablepaw is the only one busy making acquaintances with the ground.
Sablepaw sneezes out a lungful of dust; her only answer. Her mentor tilts her head and tsks.
"Pick up the pace," she demands, and rushes the small black apprentice again. She recognizes the move enough to slip to the left, but she's not prepared for the paw the leader sweeps under her legs.
Morningstar snaps, "Try harder." This time, Sablepaw is a little slower to her paws. They've been here all day, and there's a chill wind stirring the fringes of the clearing.
Sablepaw falls. She falls again. She's tackled; she's tripped; she's shoved and squashed. The critiques are the same- too slow, try harder next time.
So she throws one of the golden she-cat's tricks back in her face. She uses her foreleg to trip Morningstar, and it works for an instant. But the leader is able to turn even this into a battle maneouvre.
Sablepaw falls. Again.
so, um, yeah. i suck at writing now apparently.