Sericea rose to her feet, shaking the dust and grass from her fur. Her heart still raced from the adrenaline of the fight, but her father's words settled like a stone in her gut. Adequate. The word tasted bitter on her tongue. She had anticipated Ravana's attack, had reacted swiftly, and still it wasn't enough. Learn to anticipate! There it was- that word again. How could she do better anticipating? As she moved to take her place as the attacker, Sericea's mind raced. How could she catch Ravana off guard? Her sister was always so confident, so sure of herself. It was infuriating at times, but also a challenge Sericea couldn't resist.

Sericea circled Ravana slowly, her paws silent on the grass, her keen green eyes searching for any hint of an opening. Ravana's stance was perfect, balanced and ready, her lilac fur gleaming in the sunlight. But there - a flicker of a smirk on Ravana's lips, the slightest tilt of her head as if daring Sericea to make a move. That flash of arrogance, that unwavering confidence - could that be Ravana's tell?

Sericea crept closer, her body low to the ground, her muscles coiled tight with tension. She circled around behind Ravana, moving with painstaking slowness, each paw placed with deliberate care to avoid even the faintest rustle of grass.

She paused, holding her breath, watching Ravana's ears twitch and swivel, searching for any hint of her location. But Sericea remained motionless, patient, waiting for that perfect moment. And when she thought she saw it, Sericea lunged. Propelling herself forward with a powerful surge of her hind legs, launching herself directly at Ravana's back. She aimed low, intending to knock her sister off balance and send them both tumbling to the ground where she could hopefully pin Ravana down.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Once it seemed that majority of scuffles had resolved, Aresenn's piercing gaze swept across the field, his jaw clenched tight. "Stop!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to slice through the cacophony of snarls and yelps. “That’s better, but still not good enough," Aresenn growled, his orange eyes narrowing as he surveyed the panting, disheveled pups before him. The sun beat down mercilessly, turning the sheltered valley into a sweltering cauldron. Sweat matted his thick russet fur, but he ignored the discomfort, focusing instead on the lesson at hand.

"You're relying too much on your eyes," he barked, pacing back and forth with restless energy. "In a real fight, your vision can be obscured, disoriented. You need to use all your senses." Aresenn's tail lashed behind him, betraying his frustration. "Listen for the rustle of fur against grass. Feel the vibrations in the ground as your opponent approaches. Smell their fear, their determination."

He paused, fixing each pup with a piercing stare. "And most importantly, anticipate. Your enemy's movements, their strategy, their weaknesses. A true warrior is always three steps ahead."

Aresenn's gaze swept over the assembled trainees, noting their heaving flanks and trembling legs. Good. Exhaustion would push them to their limits, force them to dig deeper. ”That’s where we will call it for today.” He finished, Giving each of them one last lingering glance. “Good effort.”

"Aresenn Praetor"