Haunted Wood Mama, we all go to hell

Fluffy tail waving furiously, Clarence gave a low, happy growl at the physical contact. Memory was one of his favorites, he'd decided early on, and he was overjoyed to be able to spend the morning with the man. Even if it was just sparring.

Of course, Memory could have no clue of Clarence's past - though his scars and bracelet told a fraction of the story - so he wouldn't know that the boy had his own style of fighting. An off-beat one that held no particular rhythm - that was nearly unreadable, when he really got into it. It was what had made him a fan favorite at the organization. But the Clarence of now hardly remembered it. 

"That's a good idea," he told the man, making his tail still as he could manage. Red eyes scanned the man's body, reading his weight and posture, before he lunged forward. It wasn't very neat, but he did pause last moment and yank himself to the side, all four paws coming off of the ground. His forepaws never hit again, as the second his hind feet hit the ground he was lunging, aiming for Memory's shoulder.