He stiffened a moment at the question, before slowly dropping his paw down, slow enough that its landing on the ground wouldn't cause it any more pain. "Nothing, just scraped it a bit. It's fine." He replied attempting to come across as nonchalant as possible, talking more like he had just bumped it across some rocks than having accidentally stabbed an entire thorn into the center of his paw. The thought of admitting it alone embarrassed him.

"So, what are you up to?" He asked as casually as possible, eager to change the conversation away from his newly acquired injury and to make the other youngling forget that he even had one in the first place.

He rolled his eyes at the idea, despite the fact that at any other point in time he would have been up on his feet ready to make the other youngling eat her words. "How is that useful at all? I was actually getting ready to learn some battle strategy. Have you ever even considered the more intricate parts to a battle? Like where to align hunters, or how to properly prepare troops for a major fight? If you only ever bother to learn battle moves, or bother with things like running races, you'll only ever be another mindless pawn." In reality, although there might have been some deeper philosophical accuracy to his words, Asura-chan pretty much had no clue what he was saying. It was a bunch of long, eloquent language used to distract from the fact that he wasn't going to race her to further distract from the fact that his paw was in throbbing pain. If the league had been a constitutional democracy, Asura-chan would have made a great politician.

"Pawns fight, and those who are smarter and wiser and who are on top send them out to die. I'll take a loss from a game to win at life, thank you very much." He said with a sound of complete mental superiority, despite the fact once again he was completely evading Rowena-chan's pushes. The throbbing in his paw was hurting worse, probably because of all the blood draining down to it, and he feared it would start bleeding again, but he kept it not-too-firmly but definitely stiffly placed. Only the slightest look of irritation rested on his muzzle, but matched well with his looked of contempt that was edging his features. At this point the tom was likely beginning to believe his own lies, or at the very least was impressed by how well he was telling them.