some deep quote about sparring, idk

The koi wolf paused just outside of the dojo, the familiar scent of rain in the air and the weight of the morning's stillness pressing down on him. His heart beat steadily, though a twinge of unease gnawed at the edges of his resolve. It wasn't that he disliked being summoned, but each call seemed to carry more weight than the last. He had been through this with Kaizen, Seiko, and now it would be Hanzo. What more could be said? What more could be expected of him?

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before sliding the door open. The sight of his father adjusting the training swords in the rack greeted him. The meticulousness of the action was so like his father - everything in its place, no room for error or deviation. It was both a comfort and a reminder of the expectations that always loomed over him.

"Father," Keito greeted, his voice steady but soft, as he stepped onto the tatami mats, the familiar feel of them beneath his paws grounding him into the moment, "You called for me." His amber eyes met Hanzo's with a quiet determination, though the unspoken question lingered in the air between them: What now?

"Speech"