Running. It's one of the things he does best. White and silver paws beat the earth senselessly, jolting him forward in a smooth and easy lope. His heartbeat rose in his chest, beating out the rhythm that his paws followed. Occasionally he would twist his tail one side or the other and shift his bodice quickly and easily in another direction, often doing this only inches away from a tree or other obstacle that might stop him very suddenly. It was a daredevil sort of training tactic, but it was teaching him to pivot on a dime. He didn't know when, but he knew that one day this training would pay off. He picked up his pace, turning his lope into a full on stallion-like gallop. He moved his figure into line with a nearby waterway and quickly closed the distance between he and the watery depths. At the very last possible moment his back legs would flex, thrusting his figure upward and out over the water. He blinked once and landed hard on the other side, his breath hitching in his throat and his eyes rolling from the adrenaline. Some sort of guttural growl ripped from deep in his throat, one of the few sounds he could make without causing himself pain as he slowed his racing bodice to a halt. His sides heaved and his lung lolled out of his mouth as he panted hard, trying to catch his breath. "Carlisle speaks,"

She didn't much care for the winter, but she knew that her boys did. They all seemed to be so much more at home with the cover of white down coating the entire landscape. It made her feel sluggish and slow, and she was sad that her herb pile was very slowly vanishing. It was going to take awhile for her stock to grow as large as she wanted it once again. She knew for next year that she was going to have to gather more and dry them for the winter. It is generally when the most illnesses occurred, and yet when the least amount of herbs grew. It was something that really made the woman upset, and a question that she would never get the answer to. Letting out a huffing sigh, she made her ways to one of the frozen pools to get a drink, before she saw Vitus rear up and come to a roaring halt. He was breathing fast, it was quite obvious that he had been running around. Her head tilted to the side as she studied her quiet son. He always seemed to be training for one thing or another, something that she never understood. Vitus was the only one of the boys who had not gone out and collected friends, at least she didn't think so. When he went away it was to train, and she had to admit that she was concerned for the mute boy. Letting out a soft bark, her little stump of a tail gave a few wags as she walked over to him, nuzzling into his scruff. "And what are you training for this time, my precious Vitus?" she asked softly. Amalia wondered if he too had noticed her more drawn back actions, like the others had. It had set her and Athena a few feet apart, something that she would never forgive herself for. Vitus seemed observant, but she wondered just how much he caught on to. Speech

He did far prefer the winter over the summer. It was odd, he felt more at ease in the winter. Perhaps the heat contributed to his anger? It was a thought worth exploring further, but now wasn't the time. Amalia approached him, he knew it to be her by the soft bark she offered as a greeting. She nuzzled into his scruff and he leaned into her for a moment, his ears falling back gently over his skull as she questioned his training. As a rarity, he offered a single stuttered word in response, "Pro-tect." Wasn't that the point of fighting? Of being prepared? His family deserved to be protected, and even if he wasn't the largest son, he was certain to be the most qualified if he tried hard enough. He let loose a sigh as his heart rate slowed and his breaths drew in more smoothly and quietly. Now, where was Carlisle? He could use the bird right about now, when his adoptive mother was here, alone - and ripe for questioning. Vitus had observed the rift that seemed to be growing between his mothers and it was not something he wanted to continue for very long. It wasn't something he understood - for he knew very little about the workings of love, but it was something he knew could be fixed. It had to be. Too much had changed recently, and he wanted no more. He couldn't handle any more. He breathed another sigh, this one lengthy and drawn out, evidence of his discontent. "Carlisle speaks,"