Wapun Meadow it's sword and gun day

For @Viinturuth? Hope the PP is okay. AW in case anyone else wants to hop in. Other tags just for reference.

The wind swept past him—airborn now, as he shifted midstrike, his brother ducking and causing Akavir to not just roll from off the white beast’s shoulder and back, but skim the air. He twisted as he landed—the guttural snarl of misery breaking the silence of the meadow as his body slid across the grass, turning for his claws to catch and slice the ground in a halt.

“Again,” he snarled—had the man swords, he would have collided them together above his head before he swept forward with another strike of ferocity—knowing he could use his full weight to his littermate. Knowing Viinturuth would block him always—knowing that his brother was the only viable escape from the ache in his chest.

The blooming pain of bruises and sore muscles was a welcome distraction—particularly when the birds sung above and the sun warmed the ground, as if today was any other day. The howl from Riverclan had signified their quick departure—and Akavir, as always, would busy himself with other things.

Such as sparring with his brother, outside the creek. As @Arlette’s heat began to blossom, he had invited the ivory scout to the outskirts of their land, unwilling to test @Arric during such a time.

And this, he could believe, was the perfect way to become numbed to anything else.

Akavir came at him swiftly, and Viinturuth made no attempt to rise against him with his own teeth. Instead the pallid ranger dropped a shoulder and ducked to the side, bracing himself on three steady limbs as the raven-pelted Alpha collected himself and swung once more to face him.

A snarl, then, from his brother's maw - one of fierce determination. The white wolf conjured a shit-eating grin as he prepared for collision, his tail flagging in acceptance of the challenge.

Their bodies clashed, raven fur meshed with ivory, and the dark-eyed brute reached with his forelimbs in attempt to hook around Akavir's silvered neck in a head-lock. He was glad for this - this opportunity for them both to channel their woes and unspoken feeling in a constructive way. Viinturuth always found satisfaction in the exhaustion that followed their spars.

can be a cameo!

ameline had come into her time, and ancelin was fierce with jealousy. when he was not spraying the borders of bearclaw with musky urine, he was with her, or, as today, watching the borders.
from the sentinel stones he watched the two vaguely familiar, powerful men wrestle in his distant meadow. ancelin was not so much a fool to think he could threaten them both away; it was this fact which made him seethe.
he crouched, chest to the rock, and continued to watch with a silent, closed expression.

His words were met with a come hither grin from his Gamma—all the better. The loss of Silvertongue was like a knife through him—and for now, he would adjust in the only way he truly knew how to—pain and exhaustion.

Unbeknownst to him was the watcher in the far distance—not that it would have mattered. Instead, the brothers met in a clash. As Viinturuth’s heavy limbs made to wrap about him, Akavir dove lower, a shoulder rolling up to shove the ivory man back, his jaws seeking to follow and find purchase to the thick fur of his shoulder—quick yet contained from marring.

Viinturuth might press him for details soon enough—but that was one of the things he appreciated most about his brother... His knowledge of when to pry and when to simply let heartache be.

Viinturuth, above all others, had seen him at his very best and his very worst.