teach me, master

Absinth watched the wolf’s efforts with a discerning eye, her expression sharp with interest. She saw the blend of anxiety and eagerness in their movements, a sentiment she often found amusing, but she maintained her cool, calm composure. Her green eyes gleamed with a mischievous light as she spoke.

“Exactly like that.” She whispered, her voice carrying a hint of approval laced with teasing. “It can sound like a load of bull, but you must feel the rhythm of the forest. When to stop, when to go, when the forest is loud and when it is silent. When your prey raises its head, and when it returns to foraging. Those are your signals.” Her tone was encouraging, yet there was an edge that dared them to keep up.

She moved alongside the small wolf, her presence a steadying influence yet filled with an underlying challenge. Absinth's steps were deliberate, her body low and fluid, each muscle moving with precision. She glanced back at them, noting the slight tremor of nervousness in their limbs. “Don't worry about making mistakes.” She added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It's the willingness to learn and improve that sets you apart from quitters.”

wormwood