Round 2.
Sin
Gritting his teeth, Xairo scanned the rocky terrain, his green eyes sharp and calculating. He would not leave this place until he had proven himself, until he had shown everyone that he was a force to be reckoned with. Failure was not an option for him, his fierce determination burning within him like a blazing fire
Oath
Member
Expert Fighter (231)
Expert Intellectual (130)
2 Years
Male
602
Sinchanted
A yearling no longer, the Morningstar watched the pup from a short distance - his cyan eyes soft with concern as they traced the determined, yet troubled, movements of the younger wolf. The battlefield was a harsh place, but it had it's way of drawing out strength. It seemed capable of drawing out something else, too: vulnerabilities.
"Hello," Oath called out gently, his voice carrying warmth despite the weight of the scene around them and the knowledge of what most wolves came here for. He approached slowly, his posture non-threatening, his red horns catching the fading light like flickers of fire. "You look like you've been through it. Are you alright?"
He sat down a few strides away, giving the pup space but making it clear that he wasn't leaving nor planning to attack. "I know that look. I've worn it myself a time or two. Sometimes it helps to talk about it. I'm here if you want to."
Oath's tone was calm and steady, offering understanding rather than judgment. He hoped the pup would see that he wasn't here to challenge him or belittle him, but to genuinely listen.
Oath has two Red-Tailed Hawks, Icarus and Nyx, that may be assumed to be nearby at anytime.
He couldn’t help but scoff at Oath's concerned words, though, trying to mask his inner turmoil with bravado. "I'm fine," he snapped, his voice carrying a sharp edge. "Just taking a breather before I go back for round two." Xairo paced restlessly, his thick fur bristling with pent-up frustration. He cast furtive glances at Oath, unsure of the older guy’s motives. Part of him longed to unburden himself, to voice the gnawing doubts that plagued him. But vulnerability was weakness, and he couldn't afford to show any cracks in his armor.
"I don't need to talk," he growled, though his words lacked conviction. "I need to win. I need to prove that I'm strong enough."
Oath
Member
Expert Fighter (231)
Expert Intellectual (130)
2 Years
Male
602
Sinchanted
Oath didn’t flinch at the sharpness in the pup’s tone. He had heard words like those before- spoken by others, and perhaps, by himself once. His cyan eyes remained calm, reflecting a patience that only experience could bring.
“Proving yourself, huh?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he watched Xairo pace. “And what happens when you do? When you win?”
He let the question hang in the air for a moment, his voice low and even, as if he were speaking to the restless wind. "Are you sure winning is what you truly need to prove your strength?"
Oath stood and stepped a bit closer, though still keeping enough distance to give the pup space to breathe. “I’ve been where you are, you know. Trying to claw my way out of my own doubts. Thinking that if I could just beat one more wolf, I’d finally feel strong. But it doesn’t always work that way.”
He sat back down, his red horns gleaming faintly as he added, “Strength isn’t just in your muscles or how many fights you win. It’s in how you handle what’s inside- like the fire I can see burning within you right now. That fire can consume you, or.. with mindfulness, it can light your way.”
Oath’s tone softened, not pushing, but inviting. “I’ll still listen if you change your mind. Talking doesn’t make you weak. It makes you wise enough to know when you can use a little help.”
Oath has two Red-Tailed Hawks, Icarus and Nyx, that may be assumed to be nearby at anytime.
Xairo stalked away from Oath, his claws digging into the rocky ground with each agitated step. The older wolf's words echoed in his mind, refusing to be silenced. Handle the fire inside? What did this stranger know about the inferno raging within him, the constant need to prove himself, to show everyone that he was worthy of his title and destiny? He came to an abrupt halt, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration. Xairo closed his eyes, trying to center himself, to regain some semblance of control. But the doubts continued to swirl in his mind, taunting him with his own inadequacies. How could he ever hope to be Sultan if he couldn't even win a simple fight?
A growl rumbled in his throat as he turned to face Oath once more, his green eyes blazing with a wild intensity. "You think talking will make me stronger?" he challenged, his voice raw with emotion. "Prove it then. Fight me, right here and now. Show me how your 'wisdom' holds up.” He said while dropping into a combative crouch, his muscles coiled and ready to spring.