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 Posted: Wed Feb 16, 2011 3:24 pm
Limping slightly as he padded along the rock-strew pathway, the young male growled under his breath, glancing back over his shoulder with a dark expression. How could he fail so badly? All he had tried to do was train a little, and he ended up bashing himself on the rocks and straining his ankle.
Giving his scraggly wana-be-mane a rough shake he nearly sent himself to the ground, barely able to catch himself with his remaining three good legs.
"Argh!" Sighing heavily he hung his head. How else could he train as hard as he needed to? He had to find a new way... but rock-hopping was good for balance and leg strength. Tired and in pain, the youth let out a heavy breath, head and tail low as he struggled with his own thoughts.
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Posted: Wed Feb 16, 2011 4:06 pm
 The Warlord of the Myrsky Syntynyt was in a good mood. He had been in a good mood for quite some time, actually, though he hadn't realized it. In fact, he still had yet to realize it. He was completely unaware of the fact that he had been going around with a very self-satisfied smile on his face for the weeks since his cubs were born. He was proud of his litter, the first one he'd ever sired (that he knew of). They were all fierce little Stormborn warriors in the making, and he didn't doubt they would earn fame and glory by their actions when they were older.
He was thinking about maybe going out and hunting down a few small animals to bring back. Surely his cubs weren't too young to practice hunting with partially-stunned prey. He didn't remember how old he'd been when he began making prey of smaller animals. Young. And his cubs were so fierce and lively, surely they would be wanting to train and become more effective. Not necessarily at hunting - there were Thralls to do that - but hunting was a start, and came with a number of other useful skills that could serve a lion well in a fight, too, or while out viking.
In his musings he was not so distracted that he failed to notice the cub walking on the rocky pathway in front of him and favoring one paw a little. The cub's markings looked distinctly like Gunnar's. His eyes focused on the cub and he automatically adjusted his gait to be more of a silent slink than the almost-swaggering stride he'd been using before. He wanted to see how long it would take the cub to notice him. It might give him some idea of how old cubs generally were before they started training.
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Posted: Wed Feb 16, 2011 4:32 pm
Forcing his paw to the ground with each stride, he was more than a little distracted to say the least, with dampness in his eyes that he refused to acknowledge. Yet despite it, brown ears swept back and within moments, the youngster had spun round, blue eyes staring at the Warlord first with a fierce glare, then with burgeoning surprise.
Straightening from the crouch he had automatically gone into, he blinked and gaped at the large dark male for a moment, unable to help but stare. Of course he had seen the Warlord around, not least at the sending off party for the raid. But to see him so close and all alone out here on the edge of the main pride area.... Finally remembering his manners he snapped his jaw shut and managed a slightly awkward bow, trying to keep his weight off his injured paw.
"Good day Sir." Peering up Lucivar could't not stare at the lion's jewelery. He was just so..... imposing looking...
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Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:28 am
The cub's abrupt change of direction didn't quite come as a surprise to Aesir, who had observed his ears swiveling and picking up on the sound of his pursuit before his body turned to investigate what he heard. It was the same sort of cue a hunter looked for when following prey. Not that Aesir did much hunting anymore, but he'd had to hunt before coming to the pride and during his time as a Thrall, so it was a skill he had kept up more than most Reavers and Captains, it seemed. He didn't really approve of that. It wasn't fighting, true, but when out viking it did help to have more than one person in the party able to hunt.
The cub's fierce glare might have been impressive to a younger foe, but Aesir wasn't intimidated. He did note, however, that the cub's markings seemed to add some ferocity to his glare, which was something that would undoubtedly come in handy when the cub grew older and actually had people to intimidate besides other cubs. Providing he ended up as a Reaver. If that limp was a permanent thing, he might never get taken viking, and so he would remain but a Freeborn his whole life.
"It's a good day to die," Aesir remarked pleasantly. He had adopted the pride's expressions delightedly when he had first come, and continued to use them habitually. Sometimes people said it made him come across as more formal, that he so often used the traditional greeting phrases, but he just liked them.
"What's the other guy look like?"
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Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 2:00 pm
Lucivar didn't seem to notice the Warlord's speech as anything but normal, since the cub had always spoken with an almost restrained, clipped manner. Not exactly as social as his siblings the youngster was nearly always found either training, or practicing alone.
Pausing, the youngster considered offering the words the lioness Reaver at the ceremony had told him, but.. he didn't quite have the courage to tell the Warlord he would kill him one day... even if it was symbolic and not literal. Instead, the cub shifted round to fully face the large male, ears flattening at the question. "I fell from the rocks..." Nodding his head back towards the coastline, the youngster's tail tucked low, not from fear or embarrassment, but out of sheer frustration. "I'll be fine soon." He added, tone stubborn.
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Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2011 5:26 pm
Aesir's gaze followed the cub's gaze to the rocks and he almost winced in sympathy. He knew from personal experience that the thrice damned things were treacherous and made for uncertain footing. Particularly, he would guess, for a cub who was small enough to have to jump from stone to stone on occasion, which would put everything out of balance from start to finish. Another thought crossed his mind: the next people to go that way would have to mind their footing very carefully, since the rocks had shifted, too.
"Of course you will. Stormborn are far too tough and stubborn to let a few rocks do permanent damage. Iron in the blood and all that."
He still wasn't really practiced enough at dealing with cubs, his own or others' to know that it might be appropriate here to ask what he had been doing on the rocks to begin with. It wasn't exactly a place he imagined most parents would want their cubs playing if they wanted to be sure their litters didn't get smaller. But then, this cub was Gunnar's, and had been brought back without a mother. Absently, Aesir wondered how the Reaver was managing to care for his cubs on his own.
"Has your father started training you to fight yet?" Aesir asked. Not that he imagined knowing how to fight would've changed the outcome of the cub's adventure with the rocks, but he was curious.
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 2:33 pm
Still somewhat uncertain how he was supposed to act when face-to-face with the Warlord himself, Lucivar curled his tail, trying to ignore the throb in his front leg, but the older male's words made him grin a little. "Yes sir." He knew the pride was the toughest in the land, and he was determined to live up to that fact. It was why he had been on the rocks to begin with, determined to train as much as he could so he would become a great Reaver.
Looking back up at the Warlord, the young juve flicked his ears back briefly. "A little, Sir. But he is sometimes busy with other stuff, so I train alone..." Shifting he winced as he unthinkingly put his strained paw down, lifting it as casually as possible. He didn't want the Warlord to think him weak.
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 9:53 pm
Even before he learned to fight, Aesir had been fairly adept at spotting weakness in others and exploiting what he found. When he learned to fight, he'd become more effective at it. It had taken him a very long time to learn that just because a person was weaker than him, he didn't necessarily have to assert his dominance over them at every opportunity. In fact, it was possible to take on someone so much weaker that not only was there no challenge, but there was honor lost in doing so. The Stormborn had taught him the value of a worthy opponent.
In any event, he noticed that Lucivar was favoring his one paw still, but he said nothing about it. Either the cub would tell someone about it and have someone skilled in healing take a look at it, or he wouldn't. Likely the injury wasn't serious enough to maim him or even last for much more than a few days, if that. And if it was, someone else would notice and instruct him to do something about it. And even if he didn't, he would become tougher by dealing with the discomfort.
"When you're older you'll be allowed to spar with the other fighters," Aesir said. This was his version of consolation. "What sort of training were you doing on the rocks?"
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2011 2:22 am
Lucivar could feel those assessing eyes roaming over him and it made him shift on the spot rather uncertainly. He still felt like there was some important custom one should observe when talking with the Warlord, but for the life of him, he could not remember anything. Instead, he simply kept his tone polite and struggled to hide his injury. He did not was to be remembered as the 'rude cub who couldn't look after himself'.
Chocolate-hued ears pricked forwards at the offered words, the thought of finally sparring with the adults snapping the youngster out of his worries as a deep-seated eagerness welled up within him. Trying to keep the grin from his face now he glanced back the way he had come. "Balance training, really. I found a section where the rocks all stick up and I was jumping from one to another." Pausing he blinked then added in a softer, embarrassed tone. "I missed one and fell." Explaining his injury as he forgot he was supposed to be hiding it. After all he was still young and the thought of lying to an adult simply didn't occur to him.
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2011 6:51 am
"Not a bad idea," Aesir admitted. He wasn't sure he would want his own children hopping about on those rocks - he was pretty sure he knew which ones this cub was talking about - but that was another matter. Besides, if his children turned out anything like him, he would probably be lucky if they managed not to kill themselves trying to become the best.
"Definitely gives a lion some good incentive not to make mistakes, too. Though," he said, "you will probably want to have a healer look at that if it's still painful tomorrow, just in case. It would be a shame if someone as dedicated as you seem to be ended up a cripple."
It was true that just a few moments ago he had been thinking that the onus was all with the cub for seeing to his injuries, but when Aesir remembered what he had been like as a cub he knew it was mostly dumb luck that kept him alive. He might have been unluckier, and too headstrong to avail himself of anyone's healing skills, which would have had unfortunate consequences. So while he wasn't advocating running to a healer with every bump, bruise, and scrape, injuries that caused pain for more than a day and were below the skin should probably be checked out.
"Good luck," he bid the cub, and began moving once more. The conversation was at an end, as far as he was concerned. He didn't really have anything else to say or add, and he still wanted to bring back some prey for his cubs to practice killing, which meant he would have to get a move on.
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Posted: Wed May 04, 2011 8:08 am
Lucivar nodded slowly, tail tucking though he seemed heartened by the Warlord's words. It had been stupid to stumble like he had, but he was not so conceited as to expect himself to be perfect from the start. He would have a lot more falls before he became competent enough to run the rocks easily.
"I will, sir." He replied nodding seriously, though the large lion's praise did lift his spirits. He would go see one of the healers tomorrow if his paw still hurt, but otherwise he would be back to training... though maybe not on the rocks for a while.
Stepping to one side and out of the way as Aesir moved past him, the youth watched his Warlord walk away, gaze thoughtful. Eventually he turned and resumed his own journey, heading back towards the pride, mind full of considerations and thoughts.
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