Artorias had been kept busy in recent weeks planning his and Briar's upcoming wedding and it was shaping up to be a big event. The entire Hallows was busy; the hunters preparing the reception feast, the healers and crafters arranging florals and designing the arbor, everyone pitching in where they could. It didn't leave much time for him to dedicate to his teachings with Fern, and for that he was deeply remorseful. So today, he planned on rectifying it. Fern had shown tremendous growth with her fighting and sword skills and he was very proud of her diligence and dedication to the art. Today he would see how she'd been caring for her new blade, and perhaps give her some more advanced lessons. She was ready for it in his eyes.

Wandering out to the outdoor sparring grounds, Artorias breathed in the warm, coastal breeze, the bright spring sun bathing his dark coat in its golden rays. He picked the largest of the training rings, moving about the soft ground to smooth out the dirt trampled down and shifted by paws of the other Knights and Vanguards. He wanted all of his warriors at the top of their game, especially since the Hallows would be playing host to an abundance of all kinds of characters from across Auster and Boreas. He trusted the intentions of his guests, but a little extra security never hurt to have. Lifting his muzzle, Artorias gave a short call for Fern to meet him out in the training grounds. Today they would begin turning her from a novice into an adept sword fighter.

"Artorias"

The castle is abuzz with excitement at the upcoming wedding of Artorias and Briar. Everyone has thrown themselves into helping with preparations and Fern is no exception. She fills her days with hunting and gathering flowers that others request for making center pieces. Despite it all, the gray girl has kept her mornings free to go to the training grounds and practice with Lark’s Song. The weight of a live blade had taken getting use to but Fern has learned to carry and wield the heft. Art has been extremely busy with his Alpha duties and preparing for the wedding so it came as no surprise to the gray girl when he started missing lessons. In her mind, he has a very valid excuse. However, she does not want to backslide on her training and has been working to maintain the level she is at. Rudy has been less than thrilled with the hours she keeps but Fern has made sure to set aside time to be with him. In the end, Fern’s days are filled to the brim and she loves it. Still, she misses spending one-on-time with Art, the thrill of learning new moves and techniques, and the feeling of accomplishment at the end of each lesson. Today she is in the pantry, stocking the dried meats and cataloging the amount of wine and alcohol on hand when a familiar call rings out. Paw stops in mid-air as her ears perk up, excitement zipping along her nerves. With a smile on her lips, Fern grabs her sword that had been resting nearby and quickly buckles it into place. Leaving a note of where she left off on the count and how many supplies they have, she then exits the stores and eagerly bounds over the distance to the training area. The sight of Artorias standing near a ring has the gray girl’s smile growing and her paws moving faster. Within a few moments she is slowing to come to a stop in front of her teacher, the green leather of her scabbard and hilt gleaming in the sunlight. Fern has been taking care of her sword, making sure to visit the armory as often as it needs and spending however long is needed to make the leather supple and the steel sharp and shining. Tail wags as looks at the tall Alpha, happiness clearly written on her face as she says, “Art! I didn’t expect to see you until after your wedding. Do you have a lesson for me?” Enthusiastically, she catches his blazing ember gaze and smiles warmly as she waits to hear what he has in store for them. "Fern Lark"

Diligent as ever, Fern was prompt to arrive shortly after his call had gone out. The gray-toned woman arrived with her sword just as Artorias was finishing gearing up some of their training dummies with thick leather padding around key critical zones, such as the chest, sides, and flanks. Today they would be practicing how to engage and take down opponents much more heavily armored, whether it was with actual armor or natural deposits of fat and fur protecting them. Fern commented on not expecting to have a lesson until after the wedding, to which Artorias gave a soft chuckle and turned away from the dummies to greet his apprentice. "Well, I think we could both use a break from all the hard work and stress planning a wedding takes," he replied, nodding his head toward the sword on her back. "Are you taking good care of your sword? We'll find out soon enough."

Artorias moved to the side of the ring and slipped his armor on, fastening the fitted straps to give the true simulation of being in combat. Once Fern had done the same, Artorias led her over to the padded dummies. "You've learned the fundamentals of sword fighting, practiced with holding and swinging your weapon. Now that you've got the basics, we're going to learn how to improve on them for specific combat scenarios." Artorias gestured with an azure paw to the dummies. "Our swords are sharp and deadly, like our fangs. But sometimes you will be facing an opponent that has more defenses than our swords can deal with alone. Take for instance an armored invader, or a bear bulking up for winter. Whether it's armor or protective layers of fat, knowing where and how to strike your opponent can be the difference between landing a fatal blow and wasting your energy and leaving you vulnerable."

Stepping over to the dummy, Artorias invited Fern to use a little bit of critical thinking. "Fighting with our swords is not much different than fighting with our claws and teeth. It requires precision and finesse. Look at your opponent. Can you tell me what parts of them seem vulnerable to you, and how we might try to strike or exploit them?" Amber eyes moved over the dummy that had its chest, sides, and rear almost entirely covered. Fern was a talented fighter, but the mark of a great warrior was being keen of mind as well as strength. Could she identify the weak spots and tell him how she'd go about fighting such a foe?

"Artorias"

Fern is happy to be called for a lesson and when she sees Artorias putting armor on dummies, her excitement grows. They banter easily, the gray girl realizing just how much she missed her training lessons with Art. The smile never leaves her face and, when he asks if she has taking good care of sword, a twinkle of pride sparkles in her eyes. After every training session, she has taken the sword back to the armor for inspection and cleaning. Once the blade has no nicks or burs she then cleans and oils everything that needs it. If the hilt is anything to go by, the sword is well loved and taken care of. She follows Artorias over to where their armor lays and Fern unbuckles her sword so she can slip on her own set. Once fastened, she takes a moment to stretch with the leather armor, the comfortable weight settling lightly across her frame. Rebuckling her sword over the armor, Fern follows Artorias over to the padded dummies and takes a seat to listens attentively to her teacher. Eyes are bright with curiosity and excitement as he speaks and she nods along to his words. Watching as the tall Aegis steps over to the dummy and poses a puzzle to her, Fern feels her eyebrows and she quickly stands to moves the dummy. Humming to herself, she slowly walks around it, noting gaps in the armor and weak points as well as where vital organs sit. When she makes it back to her starting point, Fern looks to Art and begins her assessment, “The first place I would try strike is the head or neck.” Pale paw lifts to indicate where the carotid and jugular rest, saying, “These points are fast, clean kill spots. Same goes for the forehead. If they wear a helmet and neck protection, then I look to go the spot right here.” She points to the area where the jawline meets the throat, saying, “Again, fast, quick.” Stepping up to the dummies side, Fern indicates a spot where the padding does not overlap, leaving a small opening. She says, “If I am going for the body, I would look to these areas. When the wolf moves, these spots may become wider and allow me to stab at the lungs and heart that lay underneath.” Looking to Artorias, she wonders if he knows that her mother was a healer and, while Meadow had used the knowledge of anatomy to help others, Fern is now using that same information to think of ways to inflict death. Would she be ashamed of what her daughter has become? Mentally shaking the thought from her head, she turns back to the dummy to point at the legs as she continues, “The joints of the legs will not be protected to allow for easier movements. With or without armor, if the enemy proves elusive, I would strike at the tendons here,” paw pokes the area above where the pad would be on the dummy before moving up to poke at the outside of the elbow joint as she adds, “or here to hobble my opponent.” Moving to the back of the dummy, Fern says, “The tail is good target too. It is vascular and would cause the wolf to lose a lot blood.” With that, she moves back around, coming to sit in front of Art and silently asking for his evaluation of her thoughts before they move on to the next part of the lesson. "Fern Lark"

Artorias waited patiently for Fern to get her armor on and sword back in place over her back. He positioned the situation to her, the conundrum she would have to solve on the fly when facing down such an opponent. Despite the time that had slipped between them with everything going on, the two wolves fell easily back into the banter and habits their training had before their break, as if no time had passed at all. While he explained the quandary to her, he saw the keen interest and curiosity in Fern's eyes. She was still young and innocent when it came to matters of combat, and no matter how much training they did, there was nothing that could prepare you for the real thing. Had she even spilled the blood of another or taken the life of another wolf yet? Part of him hoped she would never need to face such a feat. A more realistic part of him told him that was a foolish hope. He gave Fern all the time she needed to assess her target and make a battle plan. In the real world, she wouldn't have this luxury of time or study, but for their lesson today she could take as much as she needed.

Fern returned to her starting position and began to list off areas of weakness and vulnerability she had found. The head and neck were good answers, except for the fact that their target was wearing a helmet. Fern reassessed herself and settled on the neck, just below the jaw. The Aegis gave a curt nod and let the girl continue. Gaps in armor along the torso; small targets, but viable all the same. He had deliberately not left a lot of openings for Fern to exploit. The purpose of this training was for her to be able to identify weaknesses, but also to demonstrate how tricky they could be to exploit and see if she could accomplish it. She also chose the legs and tail, good targets that would be less likely to be guarded, but also difficult to hit because of their motion and agility. When Fern finished, Artorias nodded and rose to his paws, considering her options.

"Not a bad assessment," said the Aegis, fixing his fiery gaze on his apprentice. "Remember, in the head of battle, you won't have the luxury of time to make these sorts of assessments. You'll need to be quick and decisive, or it might cost you a valuable initiative advantage, or even your life. It's important to select your best means of ending the fight quickly and decisively. You know your skills the best; play to your strengths and guard your weaknesses. Your opponent will be doing the same." Artorias stepped up to the dummy and pointed to the neck she had identified as a weakness. "The neck and throat are a great option, but are also often the hardest to hit. A creature will instinctively try to protect this area, and when wearing armor like this, it leaves you with a thin sliver of opening." Next came the gap between the armor on the torso. "The same applies here, although it's far trickier for an enemy to protect their side if it's left open. The only caveat is you will need to be able to maneuver yourself into a position that lets you get a strike in too."

Artorias returned back to Fern again and stood beside the smaller fae. "If you can cleave a leg, you've won the fight already. A crippled opponent is a dead opponent. I wouldn't bank so much on the tail though. If you're able to get behind your opponent to reach it, there are far better targets you can pick. And as we know from my brother dearest and your sweetheart, losing a tail isn't always a death sentence." He gave a low chuckle and smirked to Fern, then motioned with a paw towards the dummy. "Go on, show me how you'd take down this opponent. Use whatever methods you found and see what works best for you." Artorias left the floor open for Fern to decide her approach. He would stand off to the side for now to analyze her form, her maneuvers, her actions and reactions. This would likely not be an easy feat, but it would be a valuable lesson to the monochrome girl.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"

Fern finishes her assessment of the openings and seats herself near Art as she waits for his evaluation. He starts with a praise and she feels her lips tugging upward as he locks eyes with her. Then he begins to explain things and her face becomes serious as she takes in everything he says. Eyes follow her mentor when he steps up to the dummy’s throat and his explanation as to how difficult it is to actually hit that small slit has Fern nodding in understanding. Instinct is a powerful thing and, when faced with danger, the body knows how to defend itself. Still… those facts won’t stop her at least trying to hit it. He moves on to the gap in the torso and relays his knowledge on trying to hit it. Brows furrow in concentration as she tries to figure out how she will attack these targets that are so difficult to hit. Then, Art returns to stand beside her, explaining about what going for legs and tails would yield. She nods firmly before cracking a grin at his comment about Rudyard’s tail, which actually brings up and idea. Fern says, “You know, after Rudy lost tail, it took him some time to get use to running without it. It might not kill the wolf but maybe it can help me gain an advantage in the fight.” Blue eyes look up at Artorias and when he motions towards the dummy, she immediately jumps to a standing position and moves forward to square up with the dummy. Whatever methods work best for her? With her momentum already in motion, Fern doesn’t stop in her forward movements, instead putting on a burst of speed to approach her target while reaching back to draw her sword. If she times it right, her sword should swing out and strike the soft spot at the throat as she passes. Okay, so maybe Fern is being a little too flashy but she figured it might save some energy if she drew her sword while in the motion of attacking. Regrettably, her timing is way off and, by the time her sword is free of the scabbard, the dummy is right in her face. She completely whiffs her first attack and is ends up whacking the armor on its shoulder. Okay, no more flash. Jogging back toward the front of the dummy, Fern suddenly lunges sideways to try and stab the point in between the small opening. The opening doesn’t move but her coordination is off and the point bounces harmlessly off the armor on its neck. Heat floods her cheeks as she moves back to the front, mentally chiding herself for missing twice. This time, the gray girl lunges forward, aiming to lower her body while thrusting the sword up and under the dummy’s chin. Of all three tries, Fern feels the most confident with this attack, her body smoothly lowering while the sword strikes upward. Unfortunately, the attack strikes the helmet that hangs close to the opening. Disappointed, Fern returns to stand next to Artorias, deftly sheathing her sword as she moves. Looking to Art, the gray girl muses, “You are right, that spot is very difficult. So, how can I hope to hit it if the wolf is moving?” Curious eyes look from Art to the dummy, waiting to hear how to crack this puzzle. "Fern Lark"

Fern wasted no time in preparing to engage her opponent, eager and ready to show off her skills. Artorias admired her gumption, but this lesson was designed to be difficult, to teach some humility and the importance of knowing what one was capable of. With quiet astuteness, the Aegis observed Fern's form, watched while he rushed at the dummy and swung for the thin space of exposed neck. Her timing was off, her footwork too close to her foe, and her sword ended up glancing off the leather pauldron that the dummy was wearing, leaving her foe unharmed. Artorias showed no reaction while he watched Fern, simply taking in and studying her movements, actions, and choices. This wasn't a test, and she didn't need him commentating or making her feel like she was doing something wrong. Fern backed up, then tried to stab the same opening, only for her attack to jolt off the breastplate and miss its mark. Fern then tried an upward lunge. Her form was good, but once again the smallness of her target proved to be more than she could overcome. Her sword went too high, glancing off the helmet perched atop the dummy wolf's head with a sharp ting of metal on metal, almost like a taunt.

After her third attempt, Fern came back to stand at his side, looking crestfallen and disappointed in herself. She commented how he had been right in how difficult it was, and he hummed while nodding his head. "And that is the point of this lesson, Fern," he explained in calm, patient tones. "Learning a new skill is exciting. Finding yourself adept at it is thrilling. But never overestimate your abilities. Know where your strength are and where your opportunities to grow lie. It might be the difference between life and death one day." Artorias strode up to the dummy coolly, firelight eyes laser focused on his foe while he considered it. Then in a single smooth motion, the dark-furred brute lifted his paw and drew a dagger hidden within his bracer out in his jaws, driving the sharp point through the thin gap into the neck of the dummy. He withdrew the short blade and slid it back into his bracer, then turned to face Fern again, returning back to where she stood. "It took me years of practice to do what I do. Do not be frustrated or disappointed in your growth. Like your namesake, you need to grow in your own time. That's what these lessons are for."

Returning to sit beside Fern, Artorias breathed a slow sigh and decided to impart some wisdom on his apprentice. "When I was very young, I got into a fight I wasn't ready for. I thought I was invincible with my sword. I was cocky. That arrogance very nearly cost me my life." Artorias turned his gaze down to the smaller wolf, regarding her with sagacious eyes while giving her a little smile. "You know what I did? I kept training. Nonstop, day in and day out, from dawn to dusk. It frustrated me, and there were many times I chided myself for not being better. But all I really needed was time and patience with myself." Artorias fell silent then, giving Fern a few moments to process what he had told her. He didn't want her losing confidence in herself over this—but he did want her to learn the lesson it took him so long to learn himself. Patience was a virtue. "Take your time, assess your target. Not every fight needs to be ended with one swing of your sword. Some enemies require more finesse. Some more intelligence. Knowing how to fight your opponent is just as important as being strong or using the right tools." He lifted an azure paw and gestured to the dummy once more. He wanted Fern to try again.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"

Fern feels the sting of embarrassment as she returns to Artorias’s side, not from anything he did but from her own perceived shortcomings. The gray girl is her own worst critic and, as she looks up to Art, she worries that she is a failure as a student. It feels like her teacher reads her troubled mind because he quickly banishes her self-deprecating thoughts with a few, powerful words. She listens to him, finding the wisdom in everything he is teaching her. With a firm nod of understand, the girl remains silent but a determined smile appears. Right then, she vows to herself that she will strive to be humble and always work to continue learning. Her smile grows as the suborn determination takes hold. Eyes track the tall Aegis as he calmly strides up to the dummy his focus taken completely by the armored foe. A blade appears as if from thin air as Art withdraws a hidden blade in his bracer and smoothly drives the blade home between the small sit of an opening. Eyebrows lift and Fern’s mouth falls open slightly as she watches the way Artorias moves. There is a confidence in every small shifting of muscle that is born, not from a cockiness, but from the weary time put into learning and relearning and honing every single movement. When he turns to face her, the girl tries to quickly snap her mouth shut which makes her teeth clack together from the force. Art speaks and Fern looks up at him, the girl beginning to see him in a new light. There is a wise old soul housed in the body of a young wolf. He speaks of her namesake and another smile tugs at her lips as her tail wags. Art returns to sit beside and she finally, folds her haunches to sit with him. Ocean-hued eyes look up to him, a bright spark of grit in her eyes as he talks of getting into a fight before he was ready. Fern feels her heart drop and a frown tug at her lips. But then he looking down to her and she sees the wisdom that lays behind the words. She offers him a soft smile that grows as he speaks of continuing to train and she nods slowly. Being kind and giving herself patience and time seems like a difficult undertaking for the gray girl but she decides to give it a try. When Artorias lifts one of dark paws to gesture at the dummy, Fern looks over to it before looking back her teacher. He has given her a lot of food of thought and so, she sits a moment longer. Finally, she stands and gives him a nod before stalking back over her armored foe. As she approaches, the gray girl takes time to inspect the gap on the target’s side. The angle might be tricky but, if she can get it just right, the sword could cut into where the wolf’s lungs and heart lay. Stopping in front of the training dummy, Fern looks back to her mentor, working to calm her racing thoughts. As she turns her head back toward her foe, Fern draws her sword, sliding the deadly steel from its home. Paws push her forward as she turns her body to run past the side of target, sword striking out in an attempt to find the sweet spot in the gap. She is still distracted by racing thoughts and there is a distinct lack of confidence in her thrust which leads to her missing the gap and striking the armor on the belly. Her sword skitters off and is deflected under her target. For a moment she huffs in frustration, beginning to chide herself once more. Turning to return to the front of the dummy, her ocean-hued gaze catches Art’s fiery embers. Patience. The word flutters through her mind, a soothing balm in a turbulent ocean of emotions. A calmness settles over Fern, her racing thoughts suddenly dispersing as she dips her head to Artorias. Sword clutched between her teeth, the gray girl, once more, turns to square up her opponent. A stillness comes over the gray girl as she stands there, looking at the dummy. This isn’t a battle of life and death, heck it isn’t even an important test. She is her to learn and grow. The sudden revelation that Art has been trying to explaining finally hits home and Fern feels a shift in herself. Shifting her weight into her back legs, Fern takes a deep breath in through her nostrils and holds it for a moment. Slowly, deliberately she begins to push the air through her mouth and around her sword as her body begins to move. The world narrows and it is only her and the armored target. The energy she has stored in her back legs is released and the girl smoothly lopes forward. There is no hesitation, no doubt in Fern as her pale paws pull her toward the target’s side. She takes it slower, understanding that this is an exercise that is meant to build her up and not to see how fast she can do. The gap comes into view and Fern slides the sword toward it, knowing that it will hit this time. It slides through the gap cleanly, the soft give of the stuffed target underneath letting her know she has struck true. She doesn’t celebrate, instead withdrawing the sword and turning to face Artorias. Eyes are bright with happiness as she slides the sword back into her scabbard, a small bounce in her step as she returns to sit next to Art. Once settled she says, “You are right Art. When I took time to assess the target, I felt more confident. The confidence helped to still my mind and I was able to see the route I wanted to take. I… I hit it.” Tail thumps against the ground as the smile grows and she can no longer contain her happiness. "Fern Lark" | "Puff"