Time to Impress the Gels! ((OPEN))

[Stryker]

Anytime's a good time to impress the gels!

At least, that's what Southpaw "Bloodfire" Varilde thought as he puffed his chest out, strutting about the parade grounds in front of a row of 12 shiny new cadets, eager to learn from someone they thought had more experience than the whole dozen of them. Southpaw, in his element -- and dearly hoping the cynical apple of his eye, the 'lovely Miss Ripley' was watchin' him from where the scouts were showing the new recruits the ropes -- addressed the cadets with a hearty roar.
"Righto, me buckoes! Which one of you lousy scoffbags knows the words to the Long Patrol Chant? You, the pretty one battin' those lovely eyelashes of hers, a smart gel like you must know a couple'o verses."

Gesturing in what he thought was a regal and commanding manner, Southpaw leered down at a pretty young haremaid named Binty, the cadet blushing and responding back in a shy tone. "Of course I know the Long Patrol Chant, Mister Southpaw -- my mother'n'father taught it to me while I was still sittin' in my high chair!"

Pleased with her response -- especially the part where she'd called him 'Mister', Southpaw strutted about gaily, folding his paws behind his head and enjoying the carefree lifestyle of a superior officer.
"Well don't just stand there flappin' those pretty lips of yours, Miss, start up the chant!" Shouting gruff encouragement, he hummed and nodded along as the cadets -- totally at the mercy of Southpaw's whims -- started to sing.

O vermin if you dare, come and visit us someday,
Bring all your friends and weapons with you too.
You'll find a good warm welcome, let nobeast living stay,
That cold steel was never good enough for you.

You won't find poor helpless beasts all undefended,
Like the old ones, babes and mothers that you've slain,
And you'll find that when your pleasant visit's ended,
That you'll never ever leave our shores again.

Glancing over his shoulder, the foolish young hare's attention was drawn away from the group of cadets, shirking his responsibilities in favor of checking up on the lovely Miss Ripley.
Alright, he was completely abusing his powers, that much was obvious. Frankly, the Major had only instructed him to show a few boxing stances, give them any advice he had for paw-to-paw fighting, and then send them on their way to get a bit of practice done with some of the other boxin' hares on the parade grounds.
But Southpaw had found an opportunity to be taken, and he wasn't the kind of beast who missed an opportunity on account of following boring old orders that a beast as perilous as himself was too great a hare to bother with.

When the Major was away, Southpaw Varilde wouldn't just play -- he'd make a royal fool out of himself.

...and the worst part about it was his obliviousness to his own faults.

[Tracy]

Ripley didn’t train recruits too often, and she never headed up a lesson. Not only did she hardly have that kind of patience, but her commanding officers weren’t going to put her in charge of anyone. It would be too much like a reward for her impudence. Besides, she was away from Salamandastron too often, making her time as a trainer unreliable, and giving her a weak opportunity at building a rapport with any recruits.

Instead, three other scouts were working with a group of recruits. Ripley was sitting on a post of a nearby low fence, chiming in when asked, or just when she felt like it. She grew bored of the whole process rather quickly; scout training had to be, by far, the dullest experience for a recruit. It was far more book-knowledge than it was physical training, and there was little one could actually learn rather it took experience. So her attention began to wander about the compound, where various training sessions were taking place.

Wordlessly, she left the other scouts to take a look around at some of the other training sessions. She came upon a group of very fresh cadets, in basic training with blades. The haremaid paused a bit behind the trainer, a hare her own age but with a rank over her wielding a saber. He was having a hard time with one particular young male who’s chosen weapon was a rapier. Crossing her arms across her chest, she listened to the ensuing rant the officer inflicted upon the cadet before continuing his lesson with everyone else. The young male was disarmed and pinned by another recruit again in seconds.

“Don’t use the slashing maneuvers too much with your rapier. Turn your body an’ stay low. Quick jabs instead, an’ go under, not over.”

The trainer spun around and made a face at her. “Oh, be off! You’re just goin’ to flamin’ confuse the fool. Shouldn’t you be off with the scouts anyhow?”

Ripley put her paws akimbo and then nodded past the trainer, to where the rapier-wielding cadet now had his opponent disarmed and pinned for the first time that session. “No, you’re right,” she said sarcastically. “Jus’ don’t know where I get off thinkin’ I could help.”

She left the trainer rolling his eyes, moving on again around the compound. Here she came upon a group of recruits in a boxing lesson. Pausing, she stopped and watched quietly, and saw it was being led by Southpaw Varilde, part of the siblings she’d practically grown up with on the mountain. The haremaid wasn’t a boxer; she utterly lacked the natural strength it took. However, on her off-days from running, she liked to kickbox for exercise, and so she hung about, thinking maybe she’d pick up on something.

“Afternoon, South. You keepin’ this lot in check?”

[Django]

"Come now, it won't be that bad!"

"I can't box!"

"Which is why the lesson'll do you good, wot?"

"I said no!"

"Just ten flippin' minutes, woman! You'll bloody thank me for this later!"

"I told you, I want to leave this mountain, and a boxing lesson is not getting me any further away!" Sola tugged hard against Cordin's grip as he dragged her across the training grounds, grinning like a March hare.

"And I bloomin' told you that yore getting a blinkin' boxin' lesson," the male declared, striding purposefully towards a group of fresh recruits. "You'll do grand, wot, wot?" Sola dug in her heels, but this did no good as she was pulled along.

"I most certainly won't do grand, wot, wot?" the caramel-colored rabbit snapped. "I don't know the first thing about paw-to-paw! Where are my blades?" Cordin laughed.

"Nobeast is perfect on their first bloomin' try, doncha know?" he replied. "I just meant you've bally well got the opportunity t' learn somethin' useful, so y' might as well flippin' learn before y' desert us." Sola's ears twitched irritably as he deposited her outside the fence of the compound.

"How on earth is boxing useful?" she complained. "I don't see why they can't just use a blasted blade." Cordin laughed again.

"Are you perchance always this blinkin' cross, Sola?" he asked, nudging her with his elbow. "I say, it's rather cute, wot? Do all rabbits act this cute?" Sola glared at him.

"I am not cute, Cordin Fuzzy-Lizard," she growled. "I am being held here against my will. Excuuuuuse me if I come across as more than a little irked." Cordin guffawed, pounding her on the back and nearly sending her sprawling.

"I'll never blinkin' get tired of that, Sola," he chuckled. "Fuzzy-Lizard . . ." He looked up at the boxing hares, recognizing the instructor as Southpaw Varilde. Perfect! South was a well-known hare around the mountain. Sola would have no trouble with him, even if he was a bit of an idiot. Another hare hailed South before Cordin could. Glancing over, Cordin saw that it was Ripley. He blanched slightly, his eyes darting to Sola, who hadn't noticed the other female yet.

"Uh, I-I say, Sola," he began, blocking the rabbit's view of the other hare with his brawn. He wanted to avoid more verbal warfare between the two females at all costs. "That's, uh, that's Southpaw, leadin' the scouts, y'see. He's a bloody good fighter, and a jolly nice chap, too. I think you'll like him! South! Hey, South! I got another fighter for ya, wot?"

[Stryker]

“Afternoon, South. You keepin’ this lot in check?”

In the short time he'd taken to keep watch on the cadets -- singing as they practiced their footwork -- Southpaw had failed to notice the arrival of the very object of his affection, Miss Ripley Contarelle herself. Throwing a smart salute and a clumsy smile, the 'high'n'mighty officer' went from an experienced veteran of war who didn't stand for nonsense from anyone, to a blushing fool who's heart was actually beating faster than the cadets could punch. "Good Mornin' Princess, tis a lovely day for sparring, wot wot?" He tried to be casual and cool, completely forgetting about the presence of the cadets in light of Ripley's arrival -- one leg crossing in front of the other as he leaned against a small fence post. The whispers and the giggles behind him snapped Southpaw out of his stunned behavior, and he whirled around, yelling out insults with a mixture of glee and slight embarrassment.
"Do I hear gigglin' in the ranks, young chaps and chappesses?! There's no gigglin' in the ranks! The next laddie-buck to let slip a single cackle or a keen will be wimperin' and hollerin' after I give their scuts a few whacks!"

Turning smartly back to Ripley, he grinned like the fool that he was, about to open his mouth to say something when a familiar voice beat him to it.

"South! Hey, South! I got another fighter for ya, wot?"

Hearing the voice of Cordin "Fuzzy Lizard", Southpaw waved at him merrily -- his arm jerking into a salute as he remembered he was in front of the cadets. "Well don't just stan' there and twiddle yore paws, mates! Have yer friend form up in the ranks beside Fippsley and Miss Sagefur! On the double chaps! One Two! One Two!" Hustling them along, Southpaw winked outrageously at Ripley, thinking himself quite a charming impressive young hare in front of all this young blood and the 'love of his life'.

[Tracy]

And she thought she’d dropped by here to learn something. Ripley forgot as soon as she got the Varilde’s attention, he’d be flirting and nearly tripping over himself in her presence. Her violet eyes briefly moved past Southpaw to his recruits, all of whom had immediately noticed their trainer’s change in demeanor.

"Good Mornin' Princess, tis a lovely day for sparring, wot wot?"

Black-tipped ears twitched a bit at the familiar nickname. She wondered how she hadn’t picked up on his intentions when they were younger. “Aye, just decided to swing by an’ see what you were teaching your recruits. Thought maybe I could pick up a move or two.” She tried to keep her voice level and casual. She didn’t want to lead on the smitten hare, at least not here in front of a bunch of recruits that were supposed to show him respect. Which was rather ironic, really, considering the utter lack of respect she’d shown every single one of her commanding officers. But that was different… these recruits weren’t her.

She watched as Southpaw gave his recruits a verbal lashing, then smiled briefly as Southpaw turned back in her direction. Behind his back, she could see two of the recruits miming out a scene between two lovelorn creatures, and a couple more mimicking Southpaw’s little swagger-and-lean he’d just done in front of her. Her mouth twitched a little in amusement; she was hardly going to call them out. Her attention was diverted as well at the sound of another voice.

She recognized Cordin, and thought it odd that he would want to join a recruit’s boxing lesson. Quickly, she noticed he had a creature behind him though. She leaned a little, and was more than a little surprised to see to see the rabbitmaid she’d gone toe-to-toe with at breakfast a few mornings ago. Ripley had almost forgotten the whole ordeal. Just as she’d stated during their little altercation, she expected the rabbit to be gone that same day.

“Fighter? Where?” she said dryly, ostensibly to Cordin. “I’m pretty sure what you have there is a self-proclaimed traveler.”

The scout turned her attention then to Sola. “What happened, you couldn’t work up the nerve to tell Lord Braythe you had t’be going? Or did’ya have a change of heart concerning all us ‘nonsensical bucks and does’?” Well, if nothing else, Ripley had a fantastic memory. Don’t count on a scout to forget anything you ever said to them.

[Django]

“Fighter? Where?” she said dryly, ostensibly to Cordin. “I’m pretty sure what you have there is a self-proclaimed traveler.”

Cordin dropped his head with a sigh and a curse. Sola's long ears perked up at the sound of the female's voice. She leaned back, getting a better view of the hare around Cordin. No, it couldn't be . . . Well, it was hard to avoid somebeast who lived in the same mountain as you. As much as she wanted to shoot back with a nasty retort, the rabbit held her tongue, her attention drawn back to the moronic instructor inside the compound.

"Well don't just stan' there and twiddle yore paws, mates! Have yer friend form up in the ranks beside Fippsley and Miss Sagefur! On the double chaps! One Two! One Two!"

I'll one-two you, Brigadier Balderdash, Sola thought irritably. What was with these hares? Just listening to them speak put her in a bad mood. But she still remembered why she had come here in the first place. It was just a matter of days now. So she would play along, making up excuses for her peeved attitude. Hopping the fence, she tilted one ear as the female called out again.

“What happened, you couldn’t work up the nerve to tell Lord Braythe you had t’be going? Or did’ya have a change of heart concerning all us ‘nonsensical bucks and doe.’?”

Sola halted mid-step, shooting a glare at Ripley. "I tried speaking with your Badgerlord, alright," she yelled back. "Turns out I'm stuck here until somebeast repairs my broken blades!" It was a good enough excuse. She really had damaged one of her hook swords, just not necessarily while at the mountain. She would let Ripley believe whatever she wanted, now.

((Ha! Finally! An excuse for her to stay! XD))

[Stryker]

“Aye, just decided to swing by an’ see what you were teaching your recruits. Thought maybe I could pick up a move or two.”

Utterly oblivious to the mockery he was receiving behind his back, Southpaw had just been about to comment on how nice she looked this morning when a particularly fiesty distraction tore away Ripley's attention. Watching the sharp, verbal exchange between the two, Southpaw was admittedly a little lost. Yes, he had gone to the Mess Hall for breakfast, but he'd scoffed it so fast and dashed off to do his strength and endurance training, he'd left long before Ripley and Sola had gone toe-to-toe.
Of course, you'd think someone would've thought to tell the blinkin' chap the love of his life was being insulted by some flop-eared rogue with a death wish!
Then again, they'd also have to tell him that Sola was in fact a female, and Southpaw would be quite put off by this. How was he supposed to 'box her flippin' block off' if she was, in fact, a her?
Scratching his chin in a bemused fashion, the distracted hare looked oddly from Cordin to the bickering pair. "....Did I miss something?" The boxing hare found himself turning to face his cadets when Miss Sagefur boldly spoke up.
"Yes you did sir, Miss Ripley and the rabbit were fighting at breakfast this morning...Right in front of Lord Braythe! The Brigadier stepped in and stopped it though."
Southpaw snorted, "What did his lordship have to say about them fighting right in front of him?"

Fippsley chuckled.
"He told them to keep on fighting -- he enjoyed sparring matches of any kind."

Southpaw shook his head, as though the very idea of it caused him some kind of distress. "He's not really the noble sort, is he?" Glancing at Ripley and Sola, Southpaw puffed out his chest. "Well if I had been there -- you cadets take note -- I would've gotten in between you two and forced you both to make nice! No use squabbling over silly things, especially when you're at a disavantage -- no offense Miss Rabbit, but me ol' Mess Mate here would've won."
Rather than display how he would've handled things, Southpaw was more than likely escalating the problem -- even the recruits sensed that their...commanding officer might not be all that commanding. More like...annoying.

[Tracy]

“Oh, how nice!” Ripley exclaimed, throwing up her paws. “After comin’ and dining in our hall, sleepin’ in the safety of our headquarters and bein’ – apparently – shown around by a soldier that has clearly taken an unfathomable liking to you, you then proceed to insult the very Patrol who have shown you nothin’ but kindness, and THEN we offer to repair your blasted weapon. You are som-“ She was cut off as Southpaw stepped in to offer his solution to the situation.

She blew out a sigh, deflating as if air from a balloon. Forget it. The ungrateful rabbit wasn’t even worth her ire. The scout wasn’t even really listening to Southpaw as he boasted himself for the benefit of his cadets again. Instead she was looking around the compound for perhaps a different training session she could intrude on. She had half a mind to go back to the swordfighting lesson and take all the trainers rapier-wielding cadets and give them a proper session.

"No use squabbling over silly things, especially when you're at a disavantage -- no offense Miss Rabbit, but me ol' Mess Mate here would've won."

Ripley blinked and slowly looked over at Southpaw in disbelief. Truly, he couldn’t believe that was the way to stop the fighting. If he succeeded in getting the rabbit to stop yelling at her, it was only because the irate traveler would be too busy telling him off. Ripley wasn’t really sure how to react. He’d been on her side, after all. Well, of course he’d been on her side. She figured if it were a match between her and Lord Braythe, Southpaw would be the sole fool still rooting in her corner.

Still, she was loath to see her friend verbally dismantled in front of his recruits, even as poor as his choice of words had been, so she jumped in quickly. “Um! No, it’s - just – forget about it, okay?” She waved her paws disarmingly, not really sure what to say. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just be goin’, I have some business t’take care of anyhow.” Lie.

[Django]

"Well if I had been there -- you cadets take note -- I would've gotten in between you two and forced you both to make nice! No use squabbling over silly things, especially when you're at a disavantage -- no offense Miss Rabbit, but me ol' Mess Mate here would've won."

Cordin groaned, "South, you've just made it worse!" his hope of avoiding another conflict between the two females had been shattered. Thanks to the moron who, meant well, but didn't know the first thing about sensitivity.

Sola ground her teeth, hitting her forehead with one paw and clenching the other into a fist. "And yet, I'm offended!" she exclaimed. Why did beasts think adding 'No offense' to the beginning of their statements made everything better?

"You think just because I'm a rabbit I couldn't hold my own?" she snapped. "I am fully capable of handling myself in a fight, be it verbal or physical, Southpaw. And my name is not Miss Rabbit. It's Sola. And another thing--" She stopped, letting out a short exhale.

Snorting in annoyance, she strode past the instructor huffily, grudgingly taking her place in line. "You know what?" she called as she stormed over to the other cadets. "It's not worth it! If Lord Braythe comes through, you'll be rid of me by this evening!"

“Um! No, it’s - just – forget about it, okay?” She waved her paws disarmingly, not really sure what to say. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just be goin’, I have some business t’take care of anyhow.”

"You do that, Ripley," Sola said, decelerating out of her infuriated state. "I would prefer not to repeat the morning's unfavorable scene, as well." She really wanted to tell both these hares off, but she would prefer to save her voice of yelling. And save her energy. She planned to make a move tonight, if it was at all possible.

((When Sola backs down from a fight, be suspicious, be very suspicious.))

[Stryker]

Southpaw blinked confusedly from Cordin, to Sola and lastly to Ripley, not quite prepared for the rabbitmaid jumping down his throat.

""You think just because I'm a rabbit I couldn't hold my own?" she snapped. "I am fully capable of handling myself in a fight, be it verbal or physical, Southpaw. And my name is not Miss Rabbit. It's Sola. And another thing--" She stopped, letting out a short exhale.

The hot-blooded young hare sputtered, looking indignant that she was getting an attitude with him in front of the cadets -- who were all starting to whisper excitedly -- before Ripley quickly tried to dismiss the situation, keeping it from escalating into another obnoxious verbal brawl like the one they'd had earlier in the Mess Hall. Huffily turning back to the cadets, he gave a brief nod to Sola to show that he was going to hold his tongue -- but only because Miss Ripley didn't want another fight -- and barked another set of orders to his cadets, sliding into an expert boxing stance.
"This, maids and lads, is called a Southpaw fighting stance, and you'll soon learn why my ol' mum decided to call me Southpaw." Grinning roguishly, Southpaw stood with his right arm and leg forward, leading with right jabs that would've stunned anything in it's path, followed closely by a left cross and a right hook like greased lightning. The cadets didn't even need to see a further demonstration to realize that any opponent would've been knocked out cold. The brawny hare didn't need a knife or a sword or any thing to make him dangerous -- those two paws of his could drop a foebeast in the blink of an eye!

"Catch all that, me beauties? RIGHT, I want you all practicing your stances -- don't be afraid to ask questions, you lollop-eared lot, you won't be stunnin' much of anything with a sloppy right hook!"
When the cadets where busy once more, Southpaw turned back to Ripley -- fervently hoping she'd been admiring his enviable boxing skills behind his back -- looking quite sad at the prospect of her leaving. "You don't really have to go, do you Princess? I could give you a sparring lesson if you're lookin' for something t'do." Southpaw added, blue eyes hopeful. Glancing over his shoulder to check on the cadets -- and Sola in particularly -- he called over to her in his typical cheery voice. "Need any help?"
He wasn't trying to doubt her abilities, he was simply trying to make nice.

((XD uh oh. ))

[Tracy]

"You know what?" she called as she stormed over to the other cadets. "It's not worth it! If Lord Braythe comes through, you'll be rid of me by this evening!"

Ripley didn’t reply to that; she didn’t need to. It was what they both wanted anyway, for this insolate, wretched rabbit to leave them well-enough alone. Let her play Long Patrol all she wanted for today, they’d all forget she existed tomorrow. She briefly watched Sola jump in with the other recruits, and couldn’t help but be curious how she’d fair. Quickly, the scout realized either way wouldn’t really be satisfying. She didn’t want the rabbit to be good, but even if she was bad, it was doubtful Ripley would be much better. She used that realization as her cue to leave, and turned to go.

"This, maids and lads, is called a Southpaw fighting stance, and you'll soon learn why my ol' mum decided to call me Southpaw."

…Fine.

Ripley turned back to watch, curious despite herself. She smiled a little as she watched, both at the boxing hare’s skill and the instant respect and appreciation that flickered into the faces of the cadets. Sure, Southpaw was… hard to handle sometimes. But who wouldn’t want him on their side? She kept her arms crossed, rocking a little on her feet with the same small smile. The scout was always proud of her regiment, but it was nice to be vindicated. The Long Patrol fighters were amazing, and bugger anybeast who thought different.

"You don't really have to go, do you Princess? I could give you a sparring lesson if you're lookin' for something t'do."

Ripley considered him for a moment, wondering if his offer was sincere. Well! Ripley undid the scabbard at her side, unhooking the rapier. She draped the belt over the nearby fencepost. “Don’t anybeast touch my blade, or I’ll use it to end you.” She looked around seriously at everyone present, then popped back on a smile as she jumped over to Southpaw. She gave one short, sharp clap of her paws. “Okay, I’m game!”

[Django]

"This, maids and lads, is called a Southpaw fighting stance, and you'll soon learn why my ol' mum decided to call me Southpaw."

Oh, is that why? Sola thought bemusedly as the hare flaunted his boxing skills. Alright, she admitted it. He was pretty good. Okay, he was really good. Sola didn't know the first thing about paw-to-paw, so to see this hare's display of impressive boxing skills was, well, impressive.

"Catch all that, me beauties? RIGHT, I want you all practicing your stances -- don't be afraid to ask questions, you lollop-eared lot, you won't be stunnin' much of anything with a sloppy right hook!"

Lollop-eared? Was that a badly-masked jab at Sola's appearance? The hare didn't seem smart enough to joke that way, his entire brain capacity having been spent on learning to box. Oh, it didn't matter! All that mattered was getting through the day.

Sola assumed the stance, facing off to spar with the female hare named Sagefur. Sola was shorter than Sagefur, but she was also broader. Well, the rabbit was thirty years old. This girl couldn't be older than twenty. For the first few moments, everything went well. Sola even managed to dodge a solid blow from the hare. But then, Southpaw called out.

"Need any help?"

His voice caught her off-guard, and Sagefur downed her with a quick jab to the chest. An ill-timed curse left her mouth as she landed flat on her scut, scowling. Sagefur gasped in surprise as if she hadn't meant to hit that hard. Sola held up a paw, forestalling an apology from the girl. She then turned to Southpaw. "No, really, I'm fine, thank you," she called back dryly.

Back at the fence, Cordin was laughing his ears off, guffawing loud enough for it to echo around the parade grounds. Sola shot him a glare, but he didn't seem to notice. He gave her a thumbs-up sign, tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes. "Don't worry, Sola," he yelled. "I'm shore you'll get the bloomin' hang of it, eh, wot? Jus' remember t' keep yore bloody head about you!"

[Eastpaw]

“The ol’ Southpaw, eh?” chimed in a cheery voice, a hare popping next to Southpaw. “Surely an’ you’re not filling their heads wi’ that nonsense, wot!” The hare dropped into his own fighting stance, throwing a swift left at his brother. There were gasps from the recruits as Southpaw dodged out of the way, the pair engaging in a short spar. Eastpaw ended the spar leaning on his brother with a cheeky grin.

Cheerily offering plenty of opportunity to destroy his brother’s chosen persona of Officer Extraordinare.

“Ah, leave Princess alone, chap. Sure she’d rather not hang out with us boxers-- lesser beasts an’ all, wot!” While his twin called her Princess in some sort of combined awe and teasing, Eastpaw had adopted it simply to mock her. The high-minded, sharp-tongued Ripley Contratrelle needed some sort of balance for the sort of worship Southpaw seemed willing to dish out with a shovel.

“Hey South. Guess what?”

[Stryker]

"No, really, I'm fine, thank you," she called back dryly.

Southpaw had had the good sense to wince when his question had caused her to take a sharp tap, the rabbit going down at Sagefur's punch. her frosty retort left him grimacing a bit. Yeesh, she was a touchy gel alright! He'd only been trying to help! Well...perhaps he'd hindered more than helped? Oh well, he'd leave Sola to her boxing lessons -- though he'd keep an eye on her footwork -- especially now that the lovely Miss Ripley was finally ready to engage him in combat.
Well, he could hardly call it combat.
It was more like he basically showed off in front of her and she pretended to be impressed.

“Don’t anybeast touch my blade, or I’ll use it to end you.” She looked around seriously at everyone present, then popped back on a smile as she jumped over to Southpaw. She gave one short, sharp clap of her paws. “Okay, I’m game!”

Dropping into a fighting stance, Southpaw grinned at her, "I'll go easy on you -- this is just for fun, I promise not to accidentally hurt you." Frankly, if the young foolish hare had damaged poor Ripley in anyway, he was likely to go into a miserable sulk for four seasons and voluntarily boot himself from the mountaintop just to make up for it.

"“The ol’ Southpaw, eh?” chimed in a cheery voice, a hare popping next to Southpaw. “Surely an’ you’re not filling their heads wi’ that nonsense, wot!”

The short spar that followed did good in raising Southpaw's overall morale, the hare grateful to have something to punch at that had such a high chance of dodging. Grinning at his twin, Southpaw didn't seem to mind that Eastpaw had a less than...'adoring' manner of speaking with Ripley -- after all, if they both had fallen for the young scout, then there'd be heaps of trouble!

"“Hey South. Guess what?”

Unable to resist, the young galloper gave his ears a waggle. "What, me ol' messmate? Say, did you know we've got a bloomin' rabbit h'in the patrol now? Fancy that, eh?"

[Tracy]

"I'll go easy on you -- this is just for fun, I promise not to accidentally hurt you."

Ripley looked in a good mood. She liked sparring it seemed, no matter what kind. “Don’t go too easy! I can duck, I just can’t hit,” she laughed, but momentarily wondered why she even admitted that much. Nevermind. She turned and held herself low, bringing her right paw up to her cheek and held her left out a bit before her head. The scout had at least learned that much from kickboxing. The haremaid was prepared for Southpaw to throw a swing, but instead he was distracted by the arrival of his twin brother.

She waited for a few moments, then realized Southpaw was thoroughly engaged otherwise. As the twins started boxing, she dropped her paws and straightened herself back up. Trying to compete for the attention of one of the hares when the two were together was absolutely futile.

“Ah, leave Princess alone, chap. Sure she’d rather not hang out with us boxers-- lesser beasts an’ all, wot!”

Ripley smirked, her tongue in her cheek. “Aye. Well, the secret’s out I s’pose. Does that mean I don’t have’ta go wastin’ my time around you two fools anymore?” Eastpaw was easy to spar with verbally; she tended to avoid that with Southpaw in general. But he deserved it now for ditching their impromptu lesson to box with his brother. “Since you two are so busy showin’ off for the cadets, I’ll just move right along to some lesson not being headed up by a pair o’ windbags.”

[Django]

Oh, these hares were impossible. Worse attention spans than squirrels. Sola accepted help back onto her feet from Sagefur and stormed back to the fence. Cordin wiped his eyes and watched her hop over, quickly grabbing her arm.

"Wot's the blinkin' matter, me gel?" he asked. "Can't take a bloomin' hit? Tired already, wot?" Sola glared at him, and then indicated the other hares in the compound.

"I'm not going to get a stinking boxing lesson today, Cordin," she retorted. Although giving up this easily was perfect fodder for more insults from Ripley, Sola simply didn't care anymore. She had to get her blades, find something that would make this whole thing worth her time, and then leave as if she'd never come in the first place.

"Oh, come now, I said fifteen flamin' minutes, Sola," Cordin protested. "That bloody wasn't fifteen minutes!" He tugged her back over to the fence. "It'll bloody help you in the long flippin' run, y'know."

"I don't care," Sola argued, trying to wrench her arm free. "I want my blades back. And then I want to get out of here. I don't want a boxing lesson!" Cordin sighed resignedly, releasing her. She straightened her (slightly oversized) uniform as he began to follow her back to the mountain.

"I jus' wanted to blinkin' help ye, Sola," the hare explained as they walked through the Mess Hall. "I wanted ye t'see wot a flippin' fun time it is here, eh? Then maybe, ye'd . . ." Sola knew what he meant, and she held back a moan, rolling her eyes. Oh, no.

"Please don't tell me you expected me to stay here," she groaned. "I don't belong in a place like this, trust me. You'd all be better off forgetting I was ever here, you know. That's what Ripley wants, anyhow. Besides, I'm too . . . flighty to be in an army." Cordin chuckled at that as he led them up the stairs to the forge room.

"Flighty?" he laughed. "Sola, every bloomin' hare here is flippin' flighty! If being blinkin' flighty is all yore bloody worried about, then worry no more, wot?" Sola sighed, pausing in the second landing.

"Look, Cordin," she said, stepping in front of him. "I can't stay here. I'm not for all this rank and file stuff. I'm just not cut out for it. I couldn't even make it as a blasted cook here! I'm a traveler, not a soldier."

Cordin's ears dropped back a bit. He looked genuinely disappointed, but he nodded. Sola bit her lip uncomfortably, turning and heading up the last flight of stairs to the forge room door. Cordin stayed behind on the landing, watching as she left. She was so cute. He'd only known her a few days and he felt like life wouldn't be the same with her gone.

Sola steeled herself as she stood before the door, straightening her uniform again and holding her head up high. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door, awaiting permission to be let in. Glancing back down at Cordin, she offered a smile. He gave a half-hearted grin in return.

((Bleh, scattered.))

[Kenyon]

Unable to resist, the young galloper gave his ears a waggle. "What, me ol' messmate? Say, did you know we've got a bloomin' rabbit h'in the patrol now? Fancy that, eh?"

Eastpaw paused for a moment, caught off guard as Southpaw imparted the very information he’d meant to. There was a puzzled expression on his face for long moments before he shook himself out of it with a glare for his older brother.

“Oi! How’d you know that, y’blighter?” Eastpaw lost his balanced pose leaning against South, shoving him away. “You weren’t even in the messhall this morning, wot!” Or at least, South hadn’t been there when the fight had broken out. East had been across the aisle from the fracas, leaning against the table with a leg crossed on the bench as he watched the spectacle. Salamandastron’s new lord provided the easy-going hare plenty of amusement.

“Aye. Well, the secret’s out I s’pose. Does that mean I don’t have’ta go wastin’ my time around you two fools anymore?”

“Aw, say it isn’t so!” East acted as if he’d been struck in the heart, laying a paw dramatically on his heart. “Us, fools? You cut us to the quick, m’dear.” He put an arm around South and adopted a sad, forlorn look, drooping his ears and affecting a whisker quiver.

“Poor South. I don’t think she likes you, matey.”

[.:Fawn:.]

“Since you two are so busy showin’ off for the cadets, I’ll just move right along to some lesson not being headed up by a pair o’ windbags.”

Ouch, love really tended to sting, didn't it? Especially when it had as sharp as tongue as Ripley's.

“Oi! How’d you know that, y’blighter?” Eastpaw lost his balanced pose leaning against South, shoving him away. “You weren’t even in the messhall this morning, wot!”

Southpaw grinned, realizing that his brother had planned on telling him that just a few seconds ago. "How'd I know? Well she came out for a bit o'boxin' lessons, dontcha know? She should be practicin' her little heart out right over th--- hey, where'd the gel dash off to?" Bemused, Southpaw scratched at the back of his head, ears wagging comically in a signature sign of confusion. That was odd...he could've sworn she'd been there a second ago. Looks like Salamandastron had a magic rabbit. Southpaw almost snorted aloud, biting his lip in an accidental attempt to stifle his laughter.
Magic rabbits!
Oh that was good... He would definitely have to compose a ballad about Sola the Magic Rabbit later on, when he wasn't impressin' the gels and sweeping Miss Ripley off her lovely little footpaws. His brother slinging an arm around him caused the incorrigable hare to spin around, his attention instantly back on Ripley -- a foolish smile dancing across his good looking face.

“Us, fools? You cut us to the quick, m’dear.” He put an arm around South and adopted a sad, forlorn look, drooping his ears and affecting a whisker quiver.

“Poor South. I don’t think she likes you, matey.”

Surprisingly, the eldest of the Varilde children didn't seem to put off by this, and instead puffed out his chest, announcing in his usual dramatic fashion. "Oh she didn't like me last year, last month, last week or even yesterday, but I'll always hope for tomorrow ol' chap, as long as tomorrow keeps comin'!" Even Southpaw had the good sense to blush a little at the level of cheesiness he was spewing, but he couldn't help it. It tended to pour out of him like water in a leaky faucet.

~&~

"Come in!"

Barked the badger, not even bothering to look up from the work he was pouring over, his attention utterly fixed on a series of long pieces of parchment with what looked like design plans written all over them. A thin piece of charcoal lay next to the rolls of parchment, the badger leaning his weight upon his palms as they rested against the edge of a sturdy oak desk, the ruler clearly lost in thought.
Almost done... Damn...what am I missing? Why can't I solidify this damn stuff?
The badger lord had encountered a problem with his thunderbolt project. It lay carefully upon a cooling rack, the heat slowly dissipating from when he'd forged it's perfect shape about an hour ago, but Braythe had noticed something was wrong with it right away. After having heated up the metal once and formed it to his liking, the strang metal had grown surprisingly malleable, and didn't seem to be loosing any of this mallability as it cooled down. Obviously he couldn't have that. What kind of weapon would it be if it could be bent out of shape so easily? Slight the slightest bend, the slightest imperfection would throw off the bolt's accuracy, and the metal and his skills would've been wasted.
He must've been working at this for some time now, as a stack of papers he needed to read as well as other things he should be fixing lay messily in one corner, Sola's hook blades there as well. Fortunately they wouldn't take long to fix at all, but he probably should've gotten to them first, Braythe had known, deep down, that once he started forging this bolt... He wouldn't want to stop until it was completed.

[Django]

"Come in!"

Sola obeyed, opening the door just enough to slip inside and quickly closing it again. She found the Badgerlord poring over stacks of parchment scribbled with some kind of design. A metallic weapon lay cooling nearby, and Sola hoped he was not finished with it just yet, in case he got the urge to use it. The rabbit saluted (she had learned that much at least) and did her best to keep her voice level, despite her rising irritation at her circumstances.

"Lord Braythe," she began, hoping she sounded a lot more confident than she felt. "I came to check on my blades, sir." As much as she wanted to leave, she needed her blades. Those hook swords would go with her to her grave, if she had anything to say about it.

However, Braythe was otherwise engaged. He seemed to be muttering something in frustration. Biting back a groan, the rabbit realized she would probably not get much out of him right now. Closing her eyes with a short, inaudible sigh, she waited patiently for a reply. Opening her eyes again, she glanced at a pile of papers and whatnot in the corner. And there were her blades. Perfect . . . They were still broken.

Moving her gaze to the rest of the humongous chamber, the rabbit admired the shiny weapons mounted on the walls. Now if only she could actually lift one of them. That big sword would be a pretty prize. And so would that lovely axe. But there was no way she'd be able to make a clean getaway with one of those.