Boxing [open]

[Brooke]

Southpaw panted. One, two he pounded at the stuffed dummy. It creaked, all of the sudden the seams split.

"Ooops, looks like I hit it a bit too hard wot, wot."

He looked at the pile of straw that used to be a stuffed dummy. Oh well. he thought and moved to sit on the side. He pulled out a water skin and took a huge gulp. He wiped his mouth.
His thoughts wandered over to a corsair battle, if one would ever happen. What if Eastpaw was killed, what if I'm killed? What if... No, I can't think of all the what if's. South took a deep breath, calm down, its fine He stood up and moved to the next dummy. One, two, one, two
He continued pummeling dummies.

Hours blended together. He suddenly woke. Since when was I asleep? He ran to the window, it was morning. I'm late for Breakfast! All the other bally scoff hogs will eat all the bally scoff. He ran down to the Mess Hall.

[Treble Tiderunner]

Seasand aimed, striking strongly against the metal she held over the anvil. She struck quickly but accurately after that, every blow calculated to use its full potential. After more than 30 years as a smith, it came as first nature.

Sticking the iron in the fire to reheat, she wiped sweat off her forehead and took a few deep breaths. She was approaching fifty years of age and was still fitter than many of the recruits, but age still took its toll.

Drawing the iron from the fire, she finished its rough shape with a few hits of her hammer and exchanged it for a smaller hammer, with which she began polishing the shape to be less pitted. Picking up the metal with her tongs, she doused it swiftly in the water barrel next to her hammer.

She stretched and took off her apron. Hanging it on a hook, she proceeded to the door. Hurrying footsteps sounded nearer, and she had to step back quickly into her forge doorway as Southpaw ran by.

"Southpaw?"

[Brooke]

"Southpaw?"

Southpaw skidded to a halt as he heard his name coming from the Forge. He groaned inwardly, he had wanted to get to breakfast sooner than later. He sighed and jumped to attention.

"Yes marm, the one and only." He saluted smartly.

"Anythin' you need, I have to get to the scoff before the other bally scoff hogs eat it all. I need a tad to keep the skin 'n' bones together don'cha know!" He hopped on one foot, then the other, he really needed to get to breakfast. He hoped that he wouldn't have to serve a punishment, he and East hadn't done anything terribly bad... Pssh he thought, giving the forge damp wood wasn't that bad, was it?

[Rakko]

Bouncing on he balls of his feet, a young otter, dressed quite humorously, walked into the training arena. He was wearing a simple enough green vest but his pants where poofy and bunched around his ankles where it was tied. he wore a red, blue and green jesters hat and two large leaves stuck out of the top, one folded over slightly. He looked around the room and noticed Southpaw. It looked like he was on his way out. 'Hey mate, I''m lookin' for a bally sparin' partner. yeh in?" he held up his paws, in fist in front of his face to add emphases to the question.

[Rocky]

A shadow stood behind Seasand in the forge, an eyebrow raised, and a slight smirk on his face, "You're getting much better at being a smith, Seasand." The voice said, belonging to none other then Lord Melroch Winterpaw. "That's a very nice looking sword, my friend." He concluded. Melroch looked aside at all the weapons that were on the wall, sighing ever-so-slightly. I remember making some of those... He thought deeply, the smirk leaving his face. Tools of war... A thing that should never happen... He shook his head slowly, and looked over Seasand's shoulder, laughing at the hare in front of him.

"Always think with your head, not your stomach, young Southpaw."

He remembered the days of when he first arrive at the mountain... His brother's death... Corsairs. He hated them most. More then any other beast on the lands of earth. He shook off that thought, and allowed the smirk to form on his lips yet again. "If you want your food, then go now and get it. I'll be down there shortly."

He turned back and looked at the weapons on the opposite wall, his eyes resting on the large sword there. That was his brothers sword. As thick as a dockleaf, then his hand slowly moved to the blade on his back -- The one he recieved long ago in his past. The one on his back was given to him by a long time friend, an otter by the name of Meko. Meko. He'd never forget him, the one who saved him from the corsairs. Corsairs. His hand strayed back to his side, and he looked back to the hares in front of him, shaking his head slowly, muttering an apology, "Sorry... My mind just... " He left off, and sighed.