Owner	Pose
Panthro	"Ah, there you are, WilyKat. I need your help." Panthro is wearing a light training outfit rather than his usual armored shoulderpiece. He's on the main mat where exercises and training take place. "I want you to take one of the bamboo sticks from the practice weapon rack, one that's just a bit taller than you, and I want you to run around me hitting me with the stick. Not poking, just hitting." That's all the instructions he gives.
WilyKat	"...what?" This is WilyKat's initial reaction as he's called into the dojo when Panthro spots him passing by. Not dressed for the usual stuff that takes place in here, he's still in his typical outfit, the one from back home. A look of skepticism comes into shape at the explanation given to him, leading to the younger Thundercat to eye the rack in question as he walks warily toward it. Most of them are on the tall side, even if he's grown up. Upon selecting one that seems like it'll fit the bill, he holds it in both hands. "Are you sure about this?" He notes the way Panthro is watching and waiting, leading to him adding, "You're sure about this." Lips draw thin. This must be a trap. But, he advances cautiously, not at all certain of what's going to happen next as he swipes at a leg from the right side, intent on circling to that direction next.
Panthro	Panthro is standing in what a human might call 'horse style' rather than the expected 'cat stance' -- and the flexible stick hits with a loud THWACK, but Panthro doesn't flinch. "Speed it up. Faster and harder," the older Thundercat says, "don't be afraid to try to make me bleed." And he IS just ... standing there. The stick might've stung a bit in WilyKat's fingers, in fact. It was a bit like hitting a tree.
WilyKat	WilyKat has never understood Panthro and his martial arts. He's also never been a striker, but more of a sort to use tricks and diversionary tactics to avoid having to be too close to someone. "If you say so," he says, moving behind with additional strikes and swings of the bamboo, coming back around front to go for the rib area instead of just the legs and thighs. Sure, the hands may be a little sore from the way the impact carries through the stick, but it's not so bad yet.
Panthro	Panthro is almost purring. Almost. "You're wasting energy. With that kind of staff, you whip, with a snap of the wrist at the end. It'll make a loud crack when you're doing it right, and your hands won't hurt so much." He starts slowly moving through some sort of form, but not responding to being hit... mostly anyway. There's a sharp exhale at one point. "This is training me to stop the attacks before they reach my skin. It's called Iron Pelt Style." That's informative, right? Seriously, Iron Pelt?
WilyKat	"What's the point of hitting someone with a stick like this?" WilyKat is wondering, though he makes an effort to put into action the words spoken, because he'd really like to avoid his own hands coming out the worst of all this. Before long, the crack begins to sound more correct. There's no form to how Kat does this. He's just moving and swinging, hopping away then back in with a strike, making it up to the biceps and shoulders, the broad back. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he soon admits when told of Iron Pelt Style, whatever that is. "Wouldn't it be better to just stop me from hitting you in the first place?"
Panthro	"Yes, it would, but sometimes you can't do that. In the Northern war, I was swarmed by seven or eight mutants at once, all of them trying to hit me with spears or electroswords or stun-sticks. Keep going, please. Think about how you're moving. Use your body to deliver your strike. Anyway, I could avoid four of them and make three of them get in the way of the others, but usually one or two would still manage to land a blow on me. I had chest and leg armor, but one battle went for three and a half hours in waves, and by the end of it, it wasn't me-shaped any more." Panthro does a very slow inhale, and exhales explosively just as a strike hits. The bamboo blade snaps back, slightly shredded. The strike felt ... good ... like it should have really done damage. But the "blade" took the damage rather than the Thundercat.
WilyKat	WilyKat squints along the way, listening more than talking. See, it /is/ possible! He doesn't need to tell Panthro he's never faced the kinds of things the older Cat has; it's simply known. Prior to landing here, Kat was still just a kitten. "That's a lot at one time," he remarks, now moving in the opposite direction before starting to vary the position and timing of the swings just in case Panthro's trying to settle into a rhythm, a pattern following WilyKat's own. It takes some time, but little by little Kat's technique is beginning to improve with repetition. Hands sting less, impact is carried more naturally through the stick instead of it being a jarring thing, and a particularly /solid/ moment of contact leads to him stopping to stare at the damage seen in the bamboo itself, his head angling toward one side with curiosity evident.
Panthro	"Yeah, I hadn't learned this technique back then. Would have helped a LOT, right?" Panthro notices the stick broke, and says, "Keep on until it's not useful to hit with any more. I'm going to start blocking a few." Wilykit might notice that there are a few - two, three tops - lines of red in the black of the old cat's fur, along the ribs and across the back. "I'm going to start moving a bit. Try to adapt your strikes to still hit hard enough that they sting me." The next blow fails to land, as Panthro windmills his arms for a moment before settling them and himself into a more mobile stance.
WilyKat	WilyKat might not be thinking along these lines yet, but while Panthro is getting something out of this, Kat is also being taught something that could be useful later. At least, if he ever finds himself with a stick or staff, he'll have a better idea at how to use it. "I know Kit and I won't always be able to avoid someone," he shares, growing a little shorter of breath as the exercise continues, especially with him not dressed more lightly. The stick gradually grows more damaged, and the Thundercat grimaces when he spots a few of the welts forming, but Panthro told him to do this. Then, a nod when he tells WilyKat how things are going to change, and he ends up having to move more nimbly and lightly in conjunction with the strikes in order to make them land as before, now made to see how well he can anticipate where Panthro will be when it's time to come in with a swing. A couple times, he's left lunging from a miss before he recovers.
Panthro	Of course, WilyKat learning something was in fact part of the plan. Panthro has recognized that the Wily family needs to learn by experience and research more than by sitting down and reading boring books or listening to lectures, unless they're being punished. And Panthro got to practice his Iron Pelt technique, which was getting rusty. This is a win/win situation. Now... what to do tomorrow? "Good work, WilyKat. Come by tomorrow and I'll teach you how to throw a punch and let you practice knocking away larger creatures when you can't evade them." (Now where did I put that quick-heal cream...) the Thundercat mechanic wonders.
WilyKat	WilyKat finishes up with the smacking of Panthro, and he may secretly be relieved. Hitting another Thundercat, even with this being the backdrop for it, feels..wrong on some level to him. He's never been a violent sort, either. Never really had the chance to think about that. Now, things are different. There are different dangers out there, some worse than what existed back home, some not. He will, at least, come away from this with more knowledge than he started with. "Oh, that sounds..great.." he says, the words full of dread and foreboding. If it's a case of Panthro rushing him, how could that /ever/ go wrong? "But, thanks, I guess." Perhaps he'll even dress more appropriately for some training action. Once it's time to leave, he'll probably be going straight to his sister to tell her about beating up Panthro.