Stoking the Embers

As Artorias took his stance, Resin repositioned his paws correctly. She took up her own stance before him, showing how to properly position ones legs and paws for optimum balance. The woman lowered her head so that her spine was ramrod straight. She didn't tuck her chin like most wolves tended to do simply because her sight was better if she didn't. "Each wolf develops their own way of fighting. Their own style, so to speak. My style is brute strength. Teeth only when I intend to kill." The serrated teeth in her mouth were sharper than your average teeth. The upper and lower sets came together to slice and shear. It was hard for her to be gentle with them, so she didn't use her teeth unless she absolutely had no choice.

At his insistence that he knew how to hit Rudyard with a stick, the giant chuckled. "Hopefully as you grow, you two will be able to train together. To learn from one another. For now, you probably shouldn't hit him with a stick unless he has one too." What? Like she was going to tell him not to hit people with sticks? Resin wasn't that kind of mom. Artorias just needed to make sure that the playing field was fair first.

"During a true fight, things are a lot different than during training. Even sparring is vastly different from actual battle. There is a line that can't be crossed during a spar, but there are no limits in battle." Resin lowered herself into a seated position again, then slid down to her stomach so that she could be closer to eye level with the boy. "So when you train and when you spar, do what needs to be done, but also think about what you potentially could do. It will prepare you for real battle." The maned woman's head tilted slightly as she stared at the boy. "Do you understand?"