Finding Your Balance

Sirius gave him another order, a more rigorous control of his breathing. He would have to focus on the count now as well as staying alert now that he knew the Warlord was going to be an active threat to him. Artorias pursed his lips, brow furrowing in frustration, but he did as he was told. He breathed out. One, two, three, four. He breathed in, swallowing another lungful of air. He held his breath. One, two, three. He exhaled again, counting as the air slowly slipped past his lips. One, two, three, four, five, six. His lungs were empty. His ears twitched to try and follow the sounds of the Warlord moving around him, circling him like a shark in chum-filled waters. Breathe in, count to three, exhale to the count of six.

Sirius stopped. Artorias tensed up, his nerves on high alert, every synapse ready to response to an imminent danger. He had lost count of his breathing. Dammit! He breathed in again, resuming the count from the start. Sirius was moving again, circling slowly... slowly... It was maddening trying to keep track of where Seer was at any given time while also trying to keep the rhythm of his breathing in time with his instructions. A whizz of the stick ripping through the air near him made the boy tense again, but he didn't stop his breathing or counting this time. No contact. He was okay. Keep going.

Again, the stick zipped past his head—only this time, where Art had expected another feint attack, the stick came back and smacked him across the back of his head. Art gave a cry, then a growl as he fixed Sirius with a burning glare, fangs bared and grit through the irritation and rising anger. It was still a far cry from when the Warlord had told him he'd nearly killed Briar, but godsdamn, was he making a nuisance of himself! "Y'know, you're really making it hard to focus, sir," he muttered through clenched teeth, his claws raking against the stone underneath while he tried to regain his composure. Already he was thinking of taking that stick from him and turning the tables. Artorias went back to breathing, though it was noticeably more strained. His patience was wearing thin with every moment Seer tested him.


"Artorias" | Thoughts | "Corbin"