geography

Artur had made the long journey to the battlefield alone this time. Though technically he was supposed to bring a pack member to witness the spars at the battlefield, he had no interest in his early attempts to be spectated. He was here to learn, so he begrudgingly knew he'd look ridiculous at times and certainly lose the majority of his early fights until he could learn enough to stand a real chance against the older and more experienced wolves who frequented these places.

Striding out into the grassy plain, he made it a point to project confidence despite the gawkiness of his limbs and the sharp planes of his face and eyes that made him look like he was half-starved. Half-starved he was not, simply a fast-growing youth with sharp bones. He kept his head and tail high, pacing along with a regal dignity and hauteur that he knew didn't do anything to cover the inexperienced way he held himself and moved. That would come with time and training. For now he clung to his dignity and confidence, hoping that it would mean that potential opponents wouldn't simply pass him by because of his age.