As if the hike through redwater rocks couldn't be considered training, Modesty led the young warriors past the lushly populated entrance and deeper into the cave and caverns, down and down they went until light was just a distant memory. She bade the children to take a seat and give their eye some time to adjust before she began to lay out the lesson before them.

"Sometimes, you may lose your reliance on sight. An enemy might throw sand in your face, or attack your eyes. Just like Pythia, this might become your reality." An ear flicked atop her head, taking in the way water dripped from some great height in the distance, the minute scratching and rustling of nesting bats somewhere in the distance. "sight isn't the only skill you might rely on. What else do you think you might use to keep yourself alive in a fight where you no longer have use of your eyes?"

"speech"

-fighting lesson 1/3-

Lyra sat among the other young wolves, her body still and silent, her mind whirring. The overwhelming darkness around her was more unsettling than she'd ever admit. She hadn't quite mastered her growing body yet, often fumbling over her too-long legs. She imagined, if forced to fight in the pitch black of the cave, how clumsy her movements would be. The thought made her jaw tighten in frustration, but she swallowed it, willing herself to focus. The lesson Modesty delivered seeped into her thoughts, but deeper still was the absence gnawing at her. The missing presence of Jael weighed on her, and the absence of her siblings left her unsettled, though she had received no answers about their whereabouts. That lack of information bothered her, but she tucked it away. If no one else brought it up, it must not be as important. Trust her family. They knew what was best.

She listened to Modesty and the words about relying on something other than sight echoing in the cave's hollow. Modesty's question hung in the air, and Lyra resisted the urge to answer too quickly. Her mind began sifting through what she knew, her sharp thoughts turning over the possibilities. Lyra’s ears twitched, catching the faintest sound of water dripping in the distance, the flutter of bats. Her body, though clumsy in its lanky form, sat rigid, almost tense. There was something about this moment that mirrored the unease in her mind....the darkness, the unknown. It was all too familiar.

Lyra inhaled deeply, scenting the cave air as Modesty's words settled over her. Her mind flicked over each possibility. Hearing, of course... sound could guide, but it could deceive. Scent was reliable, but only in familiar territory. Touch? Instinct? They were all pieces, but none of them were complete without sight. It annoyed her to think of being blind in a fight, vulnerable.

Just how could Pythia live every day like this? She supposed her sister knew no other way. Then maybe this was for the best, to not know what you were missing out on. This was perhaps, a chance to understand what it could be to live like Pythia. A newfound level of understanding dawned. How terrifying.

But vulnerability wasn’t an option. Not for her, and certainly not for her family. Lyra's thoughts settled on the Darwinist belief rooted deep within her: If you could not defend what you had, you did not deserve it. If you could take it, then take it. It was the very foundation of the Raiders'. A belief they not only spoke of but actively practiced. Lyra could not wait to participate, to defend her family and make them proud. Her growing body may be a temporary hindrance, but she would sharpen her senses, hone her skills, and ensure that nothing and no one could take what was hers. Especially not in the chaos of darkness.

Hearing. Smell. Touch. She would answer in her mind. But she said nothing. Silence was her greatest ally here, allowing her to observe the others around her, to watch the way they fidgeted or how their ears flicked nervously. They would speak, she knew they would, and she would listen. She said nothing, but inside, her thoughts were alive. She knew what the answer was. She had always known.

As she sat there and waited for the others to answer, a small and nagging thought lingered at the back of her mind...Where was the rest of her family?

She was left in the dark in more ways than one.

"SPEECH"

CODE BY SIN

Sagittarius wasn't honestly too far off, her body followed that of Lyra and her mother. She had kept blinking as they made their way farther and farther into the ground. Tucking herself carefully against Lyra, she sucked a breath in. Allowing her eyes the chance to adjust. The lessons from Pythia would come in handy now, but she needed a little more time. Time to allow to adjust. It wasn't something that happened over night, no it was something that happened with more and more practice. Something she honestly needed.

Sagittarius was patient with learning though, her sisters words replaying within her mind, ears swiveled upon her skull as listening to her mothers words flow out gently to the others. It was their other senses that would keep them alive if they lost their own vision. But they had other possibility's to learn from.

Their other senses. With more and more practice Sagittarius would become better, but in the same sense it always took that little bit of time to adjust and over come constantly relaying on your eye sight. This lesson would give them all some new information. So here she was as quiet as a mouse, awaiting the others to answer.

Fight Lesson 1/3

Sagittarius Fallen

table coding by bunni ♥

Korona shifted nervously, her paws shuffling in the darkness. The weight of the cave pressed down on her small frame, but curiosity sparked in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should speak up, but after a few moments of hesitation, she decided to try.

“Your nose?” she squeaked, her voice barely a whisper. “You can smell where your enemy is... can’t you?” She wrinkled her nose as the damp, earthy scent of the cave filled her nostrils, her mind racing with the possibilities. “And... maybe you can listen real closely? Like, to their breathing or... or footsteps?”

She leaned forward a little, straining her ears, trying to hear more than the distant drip of water. But of course, she was used to eyesight, not blindness.

THE KRAKEN