To my one sweet life squeezed tight in a vice grip

Abyss was practicing their stalking skills, crouched down in a nearby meadow and trailing a pheasant when Mother’s call echoed through the pines. They didn’t hesitate to heed the summons, rising from the grasses and scaring their quarry into the sky, abandoning the hunt to follow her voice. Abyss was not necessarily obedient- instead, they were militant and disciplined, eager to learn and grow if it meant being able to protect the ones they loved. And eventually, obsessed over.

Entering the clearing, Abyss is pleased to find they are the third participant to arrive. Flare and Zagan are sitting near Mother, and Abyss takes a seat near them, ready to absorb the lesson.

Today, Mother is teaching her students about the principles of combat, starting with the proper stance. Abyss watches as Absinth demonstrates, then, they rise to their paws, mimicking her actions. Their paws spread out, knees bending slightly, but not locking. They felt more centered this way, their weight evenly distributed, their tail raising to align with their spine.

Then, they waited for Mothers next instruction.

"Speech"