You're Gonna go Far, Kid

"Wrong." Esti would state. Could she at least pretend to be a little proud of his efforts? His mother would ask how many defenses he could count, "Fiv-" he began to answer before Esti cut him off, saying he only had about half. Ashmedai grumbled. There was no, "good job" or "good try" or anything, just, "nope, you're wrong," but it had always been that way, hadn't it? Ash didn't really think so, but he tried to take it in stride. He was supposed to be more grown up now, so even if his mother was herder on him, he was supposed to bear with it.

As his mom pointed out the flaws in his defenses, Ashmedai corrected them. She got through her list, and it all felt fairly okay. Good job, lesson over, right? Nope. He did receive a "good" before she told him to reset and try again, but it felt more like she was telling herself that she did a good job correcting him. Ashmedai did as he was told, though, relaxing and taking a breath before trying again.

Ashmedai worked down his body, setting his defenses in a slow and unpracticed way. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled up, scrunching his face together. It felt ridiculous to make such a face out of battle. His ears pinned and his chin tucked as he rolled his shoulders forward for- uh- neck protection which put his head in alignment with his spine. It felt stiff, like his neck would cramp any moment. His tail was brought down a little too far, then a little too high before he got it level, confirmed by a small nod from his mother. Then it was all stance. Ash dug his nails into the ground. Then he released his grip on the ground because he remembered he had forgotten to widen his stance. His paws slipped outward, his knees bending as his weight distributed evenly across his paws. Once again, his claws dug into the ground. He looked at his mother again, who promptly barked, "hackles" in correction. Ashmedai raised his hackles. Was this good? Did he actually do something good?