A Litten slunk in through the entrance to the dojo when no one was looking. Her ears caught the sound of several voices, but they were muffled. Most likely coming from a room in the back. She had the training room to herself, for now. Good thing, because hoooooly shit did she need to burn off some steam.
Nice going at the beach, dumbass. Now everyone's gonna think you're completely nuts. Or worse, they'll feel sorry for you.
Well, if they did, she'd just tell them to piss off, what else?
Anyway. Time to tire herself out until she didn't have the energy to care about shit like that anymore. And this tiny, weak cat body wasn't exactly gonna get stronger on its own. So Starr took position in front of one of the training dummies. This still didn't feel natural. She wanted nothing more than to throw a good solid punch, but she wasn't exactly equipped to do that. Instead, she lunged, muscles firing like springs, claws flexing, lashing out, raking across the surface of the dummy. She leapt back just as fast, observing the damage. Three tiny lines were etched into the surface.
"Pathetic," she muttered. All the more reason to keep doing it over and over until it wasn't.
