Aurielle Adravendi

Aurielle padded through the wooded hillock’ one ear tipped back to listen to the paw-steps of her youngest, a half-smile on her features as she listened to Aoife’s steps. Occasionally, she flicked her tail to tease her youngest daughter with the long hairs, inviting a pounce or grab. It was just them, today, the other children busy with games, studies, or small chores. She’d made a habit of making time for each of her children where it was just one on one. It was spent on lessons, games, getting to know the young lives she’d brought into the world with Red, or even just simply napping, cuddled away in a comfortable nest somewhere in the territories. She glanced back at her youngest daughter, smiling as she asked, “How’s your latest song coming along?” Aoife, her little bard. The tiny girl was showing no signs of surpassing her current, tiny size, but the child made up for it with a huge personality and vivacious friendliness. She was enamored with all things music, beat, and rhythm. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Bouncing along in her mother's wake, the long hairs and quills of her mohawk flopping into her eyes as she did, Aoife hummed to herself and occasionally interrupted herself with a teeny fierce growl as she pounced and batted at her mother's tail. At her mother's question, she stopped both and put on a burst of speed to weave and tumble around her mother's paws. "It's a caterpillar song!" she chirped. "It's like this!" She hummed a few sunny sounding bars, her forepaws stamping out a syncopated rhythm on the ground as she hopped around her mother's forelegs. "It doesn't have any words, though, cuz caterpillars don't talk. Where're we going?"

Aurielle Adravendi

Aurielle listened with interest as Aoife demonstrated her latest song, pausing to gently trail her claws through the tiny child’s quilled mohawk – about the only safe way she could stroke her daughter there without getting poked. She still remembered the rather unpleasant shock she’d gotten when Aoife’s little quills had hardened fully and she’d made the mistake of grooming against the grain. It’d taken five minutes to stop tasting her own blood. It was a hilarious memory now, but at the time she’d had to pick Red’s brain extensively as to what his mother had done to groom himself at that age, though his fur wasn’t nearly as stiff as their daughter’s. She grinned proudly down at her little songstress, nodding, “It’s quite lovely. A very happy tune.” She glanced ahead as the light brightened, and they came out onto the Plains. “I thought today we would practice fighting larger opponents than yourself. You may be small, but size does not always matter. Our most vulnerable parts are all on our undersides unless we armor up.” She winked down at her daughter as she led the way to the meeting boulder. It had been a long time since she’d last called the pack to a meeting, and she would be calling one soon, but today was for her daughter and herself. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Aoife perked up at her mother's explanation of what they were doing. "Ooooo," she burbled, "I like learning to fight." She wrinkled her nose though, squinting up at her mom. "Of course size don' matter," she said, with the scorn of the young for things they of course Know. "An' everybody is bigger'n me so I'd lose all the time if it did, an' that's just not gonna happen." She bounced fiercely at Aurielle's side for a moment, puffed up like a kitten pretending to be a big tough tom cat, but she was still listening. She frowned. "What if they are all in armor on their bellies? I should bite their legs maybe?" She pounced fiercely at her mother's ankle, trying to demonstrate by gnawing on the back of it with her little teeth.

Aurielle Adravendi

Aoife was easy to please, and Aurielle grinned back down at her, long haired tail swaying. “Certainly. You’ll have to use their size against them.” She chuckled, nodding as Aoife’s guess. “Though often wolves may armor their legs, too. A good point to aim for is the achilles from behind. That’s the attack that got your grandfather. That’s why his back end bounces slightly when he runs, as he can’t bear weight on that leg.” She reached out and playfully sought to roll the pup, brushing a paw over her hock, over the tendon. “Right there. If you sever it, their leg is crippled.” Bowing low, she grinned, winking, “I flipped your father over on our first spar together. You might not be able to pull that off with a wolf as big as your da or grand-father, or your Cousin Ulric, but on a wolf my size, you might succeed. You have to use their momentum against them, grab a front leg, and brace backward. Done right, they’ll flip and hit the ground, leaving their vulnerable areas open.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Her mother rolled her over and pointed out the achilles tendon, and Aoife giggled at the tickle of the delicate brush over her hock. "What'f I get your ackees tennon?" She rolled back over and then rolled like a spikey little ball back to her mother's own hocks, and leaped playfully onto her, clinging with her little kitten claws and she pretended to nom on her mother's tendon before dropping and racing around excitedly. "When I get bigger I can flip them too!" she crowed, then stopped thoughtfully as something occurred to her. "I bet I could flip Ardyn or Deus right now!" But then she tilted her head to the side. "I can't bite the ackees tennon in a spar. What can I do to win without hurtin' sommun bigger too bad?"

Aurielle Adravendi

The mother bit her cheek at the mispronounced word, grinning and twisting around to watch the pup gnaw, not minding the prick of claws. With both Ardyn and Aoife bearing the sharper claws, she’d grown used to the pricks and snags. “Well, then I’d likely be walking like your grandfather. I’d still have three good legs to fight on, but it would be easier to send me toppling if I’m shoved in a way that I can’t brace with the bad leg.” She pirouetted with the small pup as excitement overtook the tiny child, though she wondered briefly who Deus was, before remembering the boy at Eligos’ trade fair, and again at the Festival, and a smile twitched at her lips. The question was a good one, though. With Aoife’s Mohawk of quills, ‘Headbutt your opponent in place of biting them’ was a less likely way of harmless attack. As the girl was so small, and unlikely to get much bigger, a misplaced butt of the head might instead shove quills into the opponent. “Well, you have the ability to grasp things – and limbs – with your front paws. You’d be more able to grapple your opponent’s legs and trip them up by doing so. If you keep your claws sheathed, you have less chance of ripping them up—although I’ve always been of the mind that they should get a little pain when they mess up. It sticks in their mind as a mistake, and they have a chance of remembering what went wrong to cause that hurt and improve where they must to avoid it.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think