Who needs talent when you can count the steps

If Crux had any sort of grasp of irony yet, he probably would have realized the situation was about to be very ironic. The small boy knew he wasn't a fighter, he'd figured that out pretty quickly when he'd found it harder than his siblings to wrestle, his crystalline cuffed leg was awkward and heavy and harder to move than his other limbs. It made him a liability when his siblings wanted to play tussle, it made him slower, and it made him easier to knock over when his balance was still so new. Even his sisters didn't struggle to move the way he did, and even as a pup it frustrated him. But it was easier to acknowledge he wasn't going to be a real contender in fights, that he'd probably always be more vulnerable in that way than to try and force himself into something his body would never let him be.

So he wasn't exactly excited by the idea of training, he knew he needed to, probably more than any of his other siblings because of his leg but well. He was a child and easily frustrated still, and though he would one day look back on his training and be grateful for it that didn't mean he felt that way now! Still he followed after his father dutifully, some part of him hopefully excited that they'd get up to something fun together, just him and dad... But he also knew his father had been taking his siblings away for fighting training... It was probably not going to work for him...

And it didn't. Sirius lead him to an open area in the col and instructed him that today was stance training. Crux wasn't yet good at hiding his inner thoughts, that would come soon enough but for now, the little boy's crestfallen expression was plain to see, but still, he nodded, awkwardly maneuvering himself into what he thought was a pretty good defensive stance all things considered. It probably would have been amateurish at best for a pup his age, motor control wasn't exactly fine-tuned yet after all but it looked downright lopsided when he did it. His forelegs were spread wider than his shoulders, his left hindleg at least in line with his hips but he hadn't exactly managed to get his right to match, instead, it jutted out to his right, his paw not even flat on the ground instead tilted to the left with his paw held in it's permanently flexed position.

Speech