Moonspear and the dogs again, again —

for mar & her @Vela! i know you said you'd start it but i had the muse so i went ahead and started it for us. i hope that's ok! :-)

There is a distinct feeling of relief within the sakaali as he trudges over Moonspear’s borders and officially brings to end his unofficial and impromptu scouting trip. It proved unexpectedly fruitful considering he’d held no actual expectations on what he would or would not find when he first set out. Regardless of how much Drogon cannot stand staying still in one place for too long he is glad to be back, to be welcomed by the towering spire that he has come to think of — rather significantly to a vagabond who had no actual home since he’d been a wee child — as home.

It is early morning yet, the rising sun painting the colors in a myriad of pastels that meld into the velveteen swirls of darkness of night. Dawn brings with it the promise of a new day though the sun has yet to peek up over the horizon. Too early to share his finds with the leadership then, he thinks; but as Drogon has spent most of the night slumbering lightly in what shelter he could find in Ouroboros Spine he finds that he’s not overly tired. He has journeyed to the coast and back, staying within a general radius of Great Bear Valley and yet he is still restless. It makes sense, he supposes, his journey has left him with festering vigor ( as all spars and trips tend to do ) and he has interesting encounters to share and renewed energy to burn off.

He decides that a jaunt on the borders might help to burn off some of the excess energy that did not entirely burn off on the short trek between the Spine and Moonspear and sets out on his spontaneous patrol, pausing at different points along the border to lift his leg and contribute to it’s scent markings.

Totally fine! <3

Vela decided to focus on things to make her father proud. She always wanted his attention so logically if she did something right, he would notice. The female was quite driven when it came to things she wanted. The speckled female made her way to the borders. She was going to try several trades to see what would make her father be the proudest of. The first trade was rather easy. He was usually doing patrols, so it would make sense for her scent to be there as well.

The female rubbed herself against trees or scratched bark away with her front paws. Sometimes she dared to pee a little. But as she made her way along the border she noticed her scent was being overpowered by a male's fresh scent. Vela frowned. Who was raining on her parade? The female forgot about her task and rushed forwards to catch up with the guy that was stealing her fame. She had a quick gallop forward to try and catch up. It took a bit before she did notice someone was ahead. "HEY YOU!," she called out.

The fall back into routine is easy and in some ways it is relatively mind numbing. There are no scents that should not be upon the borders and thus nothing to inadvertently catch the Ansbjørn’s attention. He moves about his patrol and business in a mechanical sort of grind, mentally sorting through the things he would share and the things that he wanted to keep selfishly to himself. There are still things he needs to sort through personally from his trip ( a vague nod to his reunion with Hemlock that Hel does not want to make assumptions on ) and on whether they hold significance to Moonspear or not. He works through these now, switching between rubbing his heavy-set shoulders against the conifers, leaving behind small tufts of loose fur, scratching his paws on the frozen earth to release the scent from the glands in his paw-pads and urinating.

Drogon had just lifted his leg to urinate when a voice bellows out to — presumably — to him loudly. His ears flutter back and with a dramatic roll of his eyes the sakaali abandons his hopes of urinating on the stretch of borders because the urge is now gone thanks to the startling — albeit impressive and perhaps unnecessary — yell. The early morning is still and quiet and he can hear just fine, thankyouverymuch. He turns to face her, kicking up clumps of frozen dirt and frosted grass, fixing her in his glacial gaze. “If you’re trying to wake the dead you probably succeeded.” He teases with a coy grin. “I’m not deaf, y’know.” He’s never met her before, he knows that much, but it’s unmistakable whose daughter she is. Besides himself, Charon and Amekaze’s offspring are the only children in the pack ( well, he can hardly be considered a child since he’s more or less an adult and would be joining the adult ranks in a few weeks time ) but even if they weren’t she looks just like the Moonspear’s speckled king.

Drogon’s chest puffs beneath his blueish, silvery mane, the wispy tendrils tickling the underside of his muzzle as he tucks it down to protect against the biting wind that howls through the trees and around the spear-tip mountain on a particularly strong gust. “Is there something I could …uh, do for you?” Because obviously she had some reason or another for all the ruckus made to get his attention.

Vela watched as the male turned around as she called out for him. Yeah, he better turn around and face her. She lifted her tail and muzzle in the air. Though she would use the excuse that the male was taller than her and she had to look up. Still, the young female was radiating confidence. She snorted at his comment not even thinking it was remotely funny. No one made her laugh as best as her daddy did. She didn't care less if he wasn't deaf or was. He made a terrible offense!!

Vela cleared her throat. However, she did catch the puffing of his chest. He was rather handsome, she realized. "Yes," she emphasized. "I'd like you not to urinate on the borders as it is far stronger than mine and I like my daddy to know that I am super good at helping with the borders," she pointed out with confidence. She didn't know how to make her pee smell stronger, hence the fact that she asked him to stop. It was very important to her that her father knew she was doing a good job. Then he would like her more, more than her sister.

Drogon watched her approach him with unbridled confidence and the lift of her tail in dominance which almost made the Ansbjørn snort because though they both lingered in the youth tier Drogon knew he held the highest rank that anyone in the youth tier could. Dominance has always been very important to Drogon and though it is very fucking hard he brushes her display under the rug: neither addressing or acknowledging it; but only because she is Charon’s daughter and he Charon struck Drogon as the kind of man to get pissy if someone tried to out rank his kids and …that was not a position Drogon wanted to put himself in because he did have issues with authority and he’d been doing so very good during his time in Moonspear.

Drogon sucks in a breath and for a second his mouth parts and then snaps closed as he contemplates her words, not bothering to hide the sardonic quirk of his brow. “What?” He snickers but bites back the actual laughter that threatens to rumble up his throat as she demands that he stop marking the borders because his scent is stronger than her’s and she wants to impress her daddy. Drogon’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. She was such a princess. “Right. Sorry for doing my job and patrolling the borders, queenie. How dare I?” It is part sarcasm and part teasing ( but probably mostly sarcasm ). She was like the teacher’s pet, preppy cheerleader and he…well Drogon was the James Dean, smoke in the boy’s bathroom, drives a motorcycle, spent time in juvie bad boy in the most cliche high school movie ever. That was what this scenario felt like: that meeting of the two polar opposites.

“If you want to impress him so much why don’t you just patrol with him?” It’s true that patrolling technically falls beneath ‘guardian’ but Drogon feels the duty to patrol as a mercenary in general and he’s not a fan of her bossing him around. “And anyway what are you doing out here on the borders in the dark by yourself? It’s not safe.” Especially not with all this tension between them and Blackfeather Woods.

Vela flickered her ears back in displeasure when he snickered. Her dark blue eyes squinted a bit. She wasn't sure if she liked him behaving that way. Vela didn't care much for the ranks. She felt being Charon's daughter it gave her more privilege. It didn't help that her father seem to encourage it or like the way she was behaving. At least the girl hadn't heard from him she shouldn't behave like this. Otherwise, the girl would probably change it rather quickly.

Vela snorted. "Exactly," she pointed out. She didn't pick up on the sarcasm. She did wonder why he used such a tone, but since no one was ever sarcastic around her she didn't recognize it. Vela had a lot to learn. For example, the young girl didn't know about the war or the danger that could be lurking outside of the borders. She was rather clueless in that department while she could be rather smart. She tipped her head a bit at his suggestion. "Well, that could work," she spoke with the nod, appreciative of the suggestion.

"I wanted to surprise, daddy. For when he does his morning patrol. I couldn't sleep anyways," she shrugged. "Dangerous? Why? I don't think it is dangerous." She didn't see that there could be others with bad intentions. She didn't realize that she needed certain skills to fend off other wolves. She had so much status here, she assumed, that she figured that it would also work on wolves outside of the pack.

Exactly she says in a very matter-of-fact tone that clues Drogon on in the fact that she didn’t understand his sarcasm. He lets out a huff and puffs up his chest again in another swell of indignation. Drogon considers explaining his sarcasm to her but striping it down would take the punch out of it …although it going over her head originally took the punch out of it. “I was being sarcastic.” He clarifies simply in a rumble. He takes a moment longer to consider whether he wants to clarify that he does not think of her as a queen in any shape or form but rather something much closer to a little spoiled brat though he suspects that her and her siblings are not too much younger than him. “I know it could.” She could bother Charon then and whine about his urine being stronger than her’s instead of bothering Drogon while he does his job. He does not have it easy as she does. He is not the Alpha’s precious child and therefore his path is not paved in shining gold for him. He has to earn his place here and he was to work to maintain it: it’s not just handed to him for free.

Drogon doesn’t really want her tagging along but since he refuses to abandon his patrol just because she yells at him to and he couldn’t just leave her on the borders by herself so oblivious to the very real dangers that lurk outside and are not hindered by borders and so very eager to throw her status around like it’s going to mean anything to Blackfeather Woods other than a way to take a second strike at Moonspear and hit home given who she is, Drogon concludes that having her tag along with him is the only real option he has. “Have you been living under a rock?” The Ansbjørn cannot help but ask, sharper than he intended to. “A Blackfeather Woods wolf attacked Rannoch, almost killed him but he was saved by your older sisters. This same wolf has been causing all sorts of unrest among our area of the Wilds. They kidnapped one wolf and tortured her. There’s a war brewing, queenie and your status as the alpha's daughter makes you a big target.” And her naivety would make it easy. It’s easy for Drogon to draw this deduction because the strategist in him has already decided that if he was going to make a strategical play that would hit deep and hurt the most he would take someone important that moved along the borders like she had no care in the world aside from earning daddy’s praise.

“You can patrol with me,” Drogon declares leaving no room for negotiation having already made up his mind. “You can do the rest of the border marking where it needs refreshed if that’ll make you happy.” He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes but he supposes he’s still technically patrolling if he escorts her along the borders.

I love how he just gives in to her wishes haha xD

Vela rolled her eyes. She didn't care if he was sarcastic or whatever that meant. Those words he said should have been the right reaction to her. The confident princess just kept her tail curled up dominantly and just ignored his words. However, she would take his advise and do a patrol later with her father to show how much she knew already.

The female had been living under a rock it seemed. She was rather surprised at what he had to say. She hadn't heard about this Black Feather, not Rannoch being hurt. "Rannoch looked fine when I saw him recently?," she frowned. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't really looked at him well. She had only eyes for her daddy at the time, which wasn't much of a surprise.

Her dark blue eyes blinked. "Me? A target. Oh...,' she spoke. She knew that it meant she would be taken away from her daddy. She didn't want that. "I don't want to be one," she pointed out at him. She looked at the other suspiciously how he would know all of this. She had lots to process once more.

She was more than pleased that she was still going to patrol. She nodded when the male told her that she could do the border marking. "Yes, thank you... um.. What is your name again?," she asked then, showing a bit more interest now she got her way. "Do you really think someone would target me?," she wondered. "Maybe I should be a mercenary!," she beamed, thinking it was easy like a border patrol.

haha.

Drogon ignores her display of dominance if only because he clings stubbornly to the fact that if she wants him to submit to her she’s going to have to earn it like everyone else. “That is what Hydra told me. I wasn’t here at the time it happened.” Drogon tells her with a lofty shrug of his shoulders. He believes Hydra — and has never had any reason not to trust his mentor wholly. “but even so it was a while ago. He would have healed by now.” Drogon explains. He’s only ever seen the other male in passing and never held a conversation with him or anything. He gives a bark of a laugh when she states that she doesn’t want to be a target. “I hate to break it to you princess but life is not as doting as you’d think. It doesn’t often give us what we want. I’m sure I have a kill on sight order on my head from them.” But he’s a viper because he does not look anything like the small, pudgy cream-puff colored, frightened child they’d taken into their fold. It was like someone hit the upgrade button when he’d hit puberty and that had came after he left Blackfeather.

“Drogon. My name’s Drogon,” He offers her gesturing for her to join him as he begins to walk the borders, being sure to keep his pace slower for her benefit. “You’re …Vela, right?” He knew the other sister was Galaxy and their brother’s name escaped him entirely though Drogon is sure Hydra has mentioned it on occasion; and though he should probably make more of an effort to remember the alpha pair’s son name he doesn’t. He is another pack member that Drogon sees in passing but never really ‘brushes shoulders with’ a lot. The Ansbjørn has his circle and he tends to stick to it …and by small circle he actually means Hydra ( and maybe Ganondorf but Drogon isn’t so sure he’d consider them friends ).

“Definitely.” He responds, not bothering to consider that learning that she could be a target for malicious deeds could scare her. She declares that she could be a mercenary and he glimpses at her from the corner of his eye. Well, she certainly has the demanding demeanor down. “I could teach you a few self defense techniques, if you want.” because even being a little prepared was better than not being prepared at all and from Drogon's experience a little preparation could sometimes go a long way.

Vela raised her brows. Hydra hadn't told her about the attack. But then again, her big sister probably didn't want to confide that with her. Plus Vela had been rather self-obsessed lately and only thought about how she could win her father's favor. Vela wondered if she should ask Rannoch about his attack. He did seem interested in her before, though she wasn't sure why. She let Drogon tell her that life wasn't so nice. She already knew this because Galaxy was ruining most of it. She would take her papa away from her and she disliked that.

"Drogon it is then," she spoke with a nod. The female curled her lips up into a smile. "Yes. It is Vela," she hummed. Vela kind of felt that he should know her name as Charon's daughter but now the female didn't hold it against him as she didn't know his name either. Vela glanced at him with new found interest when he offered a defensive lesson to her. Vela nodded instantly. "Yes, I want!," she spoke with some urgency. "Can you show me things now?"

It became quickly apparent to Drogon that Vela was a lot more sheltered than he’d originally thought and it occurs to him that it’s probably not the pale to fill her in but …it seems silly and reckless ( this coming from the king of reckless ) to let her go about her life living in the dark, sheltered from the harsh realities of what is happening just outside her borders …what could happen within her borders. So, Drogon doesn’t feel overly guilty about being the bearer of bad news. He glimpses at her as she glances as him and offered him an instantaneous nod. Good. It was good to know that she has an interest in, at the very least, learning how to defend herself. She doesn’t have to be a master warrior …but even knowing the basics …or some of Drogon’s favorite dirty tricks would help her would it ever become necessary. “Right now?” Drogon inquires, looking away from her to the path that stretches out before them. “I thought you wanted to impress daddy?” Drogon mimics in a high-pitched, girly voice with a roll of his eyes and a unintentional brush of his shoulder against hers as they walk, glimpsing back at her out of the corner of his eye as he awaits her response. He’d be more than happy to put a pause on patrolling to show her a few fighting techniques but first he needs a clear idea of which is the priority to her: learning how to defend herself or impressing her father because they couldn’t patrol and spar at the same time and one had to give.

Vela didn't see any problem with Drogon teaching her a few tricks right now. It was still early. They had a whole day! To Vela, it seemed that there was more than enough time to finish the borders. He then mimicked her voice and bumped her playfully. Vela quirked up her lips into a smirk. She then nipped playfully towards his muzzle. She didn't intend for it to be a hit. Just in the direction towards his muzzle. "Shut ittt!!!," she spoke, though her tone was far from serious.

Vela chuckled softly. Her tail was wagging softly. "Of course! But then my scent will be on the border, AND, I will know a few things about fighting," she pointed out to the male. Then she would have an extra thing to show him when she would see her father again. She was really eager to show him what she could do. Then she would be better than Galaxy.

i had her nip to his muzzle hit for the fun of it! haha

Drogon chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as his tail gives a wily lash against his hocks. He starts when her teeth make contact with his muzzle as he leans closer, unintentionally. His hackles bristle but the nip was not of an angry variation, nor was her pressure harsh. He offers her a smirk of his own as she tells him to ‘shut it’, her words drawn out. He didn’t detect embarrassment but the drawn out manner reminded him of it and a half laugh, half snort left him. “Well,” He draws, his salmon pink tongue drawing across his jowls. “That’s what you sound like.” Drogon tells her in a manner that is little more than lighthearted banter. Drogon listens as she explains the benefits of doing both — presumably patrol after they have a small defense lesson. He’s still not tired yet, too wired from his journey and the things he has to offer her parents as news and contemplates that he might be able to catch a good few hours of shut eye if he’s worn himself out.

“Alright,” He stops abruptly and fixes her in his glacial stare, assessing her strategically for a moment. “You’re not always going to have the opportunity to assess your opponent with time, so you have to learn to do it quickly. Now, I’m a big boy,” There was no sense in denying it: Drogon was tall but he was broad and thick: a heavy-hitting boxer in the ring. “I’m intimidating and I’ve got a lot of power behind my hits but I’m slow. I can’t move as fast as you can because you’re smaller. Speed will be your asset in a fight with me and wolves of my size. It’s important in any fight to watch movements and try to gauge the way your opponent might attack …but some will try to fake you out. Confuse you.” He tucks his chin down to protect his throat in demonstration as he says, “Always protect your throat and try not to let yourself get pinned on your back. It exposes your belly which is a hell of a lot slower death than attacking your throat.”

“Don’t play honorable. Don’t play by the rules because I can guarantee that your opponent won’t, especially if their life is danger. Don’t be afraid to fight dirty because in theory fights are meant to be fair but in real life a wolf with nothing to lose will fight the hardest and the dirtiest. There will be no rules other than survive. So if you get the opportunity,” He pads towards her, closing the distance between them. “Ram your shoulder as hard as you can into their rib cage.” Drogon presses his shoulder lightly into her rib cage to demonstrate. “You can crack or break ribs this way which will put them down quicker. Ribcages are sensitive and they protect vital organs. It might win you the fight right then and there.” It’s one of Drogon’s favorite moves and perhaps it makes him predictable but why argue with what works? “I wouldn’t use it while friendly sparring though. Save it for a real fight.” He’d used it a few times during spars but he’d been a lot smaller then and didn’t have the power behind him back then that he did now as a full grown adult.

“Also, go for the legs. Knock them off balance and try to get them pinned to the ground. Preferably on their back but side will also work. It’s like when you submit and you expose your belly: you want to force them into that submission.” Drogon instructs, circling back around her.

Hahaha that is perfect.

Vela's ears dropped back more submissively, and mostly because she was flustered when her teeth lightly scratched over his muzzle. She didn't mean to nip him just now. He thought he would move away as a skilled warrior. Now it felt like something intimate and for a moment her confidence faltered and a teenage girl appeared. Soon enough, Vela pushed those feelings away as Drogon halted and started to explain some things about fighting. The male had fully captured her attention now.

Her dark blue eyes roamed over his body. The male wasn't lying when the male told her he was big. How hadn't she noticed before? He was rather large compared to her. Not only in height but also in width. She nodded. She would take it to heart that she was fast. She was slender and quick on her feet. She would want to use that as her source of power. Most bigger wolves would probably expect that she was faster though. She nodded eagerly as he explained that she could use her speed. She mimicked him and protected her throat by tipping her muzzle like he had. It made sense what he told her. When they would be hunting they would bite deer in their throat and in their belly. She remembered this from watching the adults hunt.

She was surprised to hear the next bit of advice. Normally one wouldn't advise you to play dirty. She liked that Drogon was so honest with her. It made him that much more believable. "I can play dirty," she instantly nodded. She was not a sweet and innocent girl. She felt like she didn't even look innocent. Perhaps for big males like Drogon, she would but Vela didn't think of herself as innocent and sweet. She watched as he stepped closer and explained how to attack the ribcage. She felt him press close against her for a brief moment. Her eyes roamed over him for a moment before she wanted to try herself. Once again she copied the male and pressed her shoulder against his ribcage, albeit far more carefully and slowly as he did. She wanted to make sure her approach was the right way of doing it. She nodded once more. This was all very helpful to her.

Vela watched Drogon's long legs. It would be very easy for her to shoulder into them. Or perhaps she could even bite into them. "Should I bite in the legs or just try to shove myself into their legs and hope they topple over?," she asked. She wasn't sure what was the better way. Her tail went up when he spoke about forcing them into submission. Perhaps this mercenary trade was really her thing!

There was one time where Drogon’s immediate reaction to her nip, playful or not, would have been overly aggressive; but he’s learned and he’s matured. He is not the same violate boy he’d once been. The man that Drogon Ansbjørn has become is a kaleidoscope of things and hardly any of them “good” — but then again he will always see himself as the villain in his own story because for one so young as him his record is far from clean. It’s filled with a lot of tragedy and a lot of heartbreak and a lot of bad decisions; but he’s learned from it all; and it particularly shows to him right here and now as her teeth make contact with the flesh of his muzzle and though he flinches in surprise he does not, otherwise react aside from a gruff ( albeit teasing ) “I’ll let you have that one, ruhtinatar.” in his deep, whiskey steeped in smoke timbre, favoring the Tundrian word for princess over the common tongue one.

Most of Drogon’s fighting skills is directly from the ‘streets’, so to speak. It’s from picking fights with wolves older and more skilled then him, it’s from gritty experience. He hadn’t had any ‘formal’ training until Hydra took him on with a pupil and even then it’s far too late for him to change his fighting style. He fights dirty, he doesn’t play by the rules, and Drogon knows deep in his bones that he’ll kill without batting an eye. He won’t hesitate and he won’t ask questions. Maybe her sisters, mother and father wouldn’t like him telling her to play dirty, to take advantage of whatever she can because it’s not honorable and in the end if she wanted to pursue mercenary it was probably better that Hydra took over her training but Drogon didn’t personally think it hurt to have a few tricks up one’s sleeve. As she affirmed that she could play dirty Drogon let out a snort. “I don’t doubt it.” and he genuinely didn’t.

He held still for her as she mimicked him, pressing her shoulder betwixt his ribs; he offers her a swift nod of approval. “Easy, ruhtinatar, easy,” He chides her as he notices the dominate rise of her tail. “Your pride and arrogance have no place in the arena,” He reminds her, stressing his words in the hopes that she listens. “Your daddy’s name won’t save you in a real fight. They aren’t going to care what your title is, what rank you hold. They’re not going to fear your arrogance. They’re going to take advantage of it. It’ll get you killed.” She could scream that she was a princess of Moonspear until she was blue in the face and Drogon knows they won’t care other than it might encourage ill-boding actions.

“I usually bite their legs, try to sweep it out from under them but then again size probably matters in that,” He is contemplative. He’s not sure he’s ever seen someone try to shove themselves into their legs and ‘hope’ it works. “That might give them the upper hand if you don’t succeed in toppling them over. I’ve never seen anyone try that …” His sentence trails off. “Try it. Right here and right now. Try to knock me off me off balance that way.” There was no better way to see if it could actually work or not then by actually following through with it.

Vela watched him curiously. She tipped her head at the word she never heard before. Ruhtinatar. The female gently wagged her tail as it seemed to be a nickname of some sort. "What does ruhtinatar mean?," she asked curiously. She wasn't sure if the male meant it as a nice nickname or not. Though, if it was an ugly nickname he probably wouldn't tell her that.

Vela lowered her tail as she was scolded by the other. Her big dark blue eyes glanced up at him. Then she raised her tail again. She felt that if he attitude was right, then that might be an extra point for her. If she was confident and believed in herself then she might come over as more convincing. She nodded at Drogon though. "I understand. If there is a fight, play dirty, not by the rules. And they don't care who I am. But I do feel like if I believe in myself that I would be more convincing with my moves."

Vela could understand that eventually, size would matter. She wasn't sure how big she would become, but most likely she wouldn't become as big as Drogon. Vela listened curiously again. She was a bit surprised for a moment that she could just try it on him. Soon her confidence returned. She watched his legs and the structure of it. She could shoulder into his knee, but then she would have to force it in the other direction. It made more sense to hit him below his knee.

Vela battered her freckled face at him, squinted her eyes and then charged at Drogon. She shifted so her shoulder would come close to his left front leg. The only thing she was worried about was if she managed to topple him over that he might land on top of her. Vela then tried to bulldoze her shoulder into his leg, below his knee. She used her right shoulder because then she had more chance to move away if he did fall to the ground.

Drogon’s ears cup forth and swivel to the side when she inquires as to what ‘ruhtinatar’ means and for a moment he offers her a beguiling smirk but little else, savoring the moment of secrecy for a few seconds; but in the end he decided not to keep it. “Ruhtinatar means princess in Tundrian.” Drogon explains with a brisk rise and fall of his shoulders in a simple shrug. “Maybe,” The Ansbjørn replies when she speaks that if she believes in herself it might help to make her more convincing. “It’s not a show though. At the end of the day if you don’t have the skill or practice to back it up you’re going to lose. I mean, sometimes you could get lucky but if you’re in a real fight you do not want to rely upon luck.” For Lady Luck is a fickle temptress and her favor is not easily held. Not when he believes she has the temperament of the sea and is just as flighty.

Drogon braces himself for her attack and notes that she spends far too long thinking about what she wants to do. In a real fight …or even a spar she was not going to have the luxury of time to contemplate things and Drogon knows he’s going to have to break her of that awful habit as soon as possible. “Don’t think about it. Don’t analyze it. In a real fight and even a spar you won’t have time to think. Thinking will get you killed or lose you the spar. Trust your instincts. Listen to them and for fuck’s sake don’t hesitate. Just attack Vela!” He barks in a rough command like an impatient drill sergeant. Though she’s kind of annoying to him with her posh, uppity, ‘the world owes me everything because my daddy’s king of the mountain’, Drogon kind of likes her ( they say opposites attract, after all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) and at the very least admits that it would be a shame for something to happen to her.

Vela charges for him, favoring her left shoulder he thinks seconds before she rams it against his legs. He snarls out a colorful explicit in tundrian, a pained growl following as he crumbles down, belly to the ground. The point of collision smarts but Drogon ignores it in favor of attempting to snatch her own legs out from under her by hooking a paw around one of them and giving it a tug to pull her down to his level though he is not immediately sure whether he will be successful or not.

Vela was instantly charmed towards him more when that silly word meant something wonderful. Princess, like she was! Plus it felt like a secret word only they knew. She decided that she really liked that he called her that way in a secret language. He may be all serious all the time but he did have a cooler side, Vela decided.

She nodded once more. He was hammering her about that is was not a show and that she shouldn't think. But if she wasn't going to think then her attacks wouldn't be fruitful. That is what the female thought. She didn't want to hit him at random. She wanted to charge where it hurt. The female flattened her ears when he yelled at her but like before she wanted to pick the right aim.

Vela was delighted when she heard a snarl coming from the other with other words she didn't follow. He went down to the ground to her surprise. Vela wagged her tail though from the corner of her eyes she saw some movement and jumped up, more because she was startled than an actual dodge. She landed on her side nevertheless. She started laughing as she rolled against Drogon. The girlish giggle filled the air. "That was nice," she grinned. "I want to be a fighter as well," she decided with a more serious tone, her giggles fading. She would be a fighter princess!!

wrap up with your post so we can have another one? :D

Drogon’s lips curl with unbidden smugness as she jumps when he hooks a paw around her leg and she topples down to the ground. “Next lesson,” He rasps. “Don’t ever assume you’ve won until your opponent surrenders.” He chuckles as her giggles fill the air. The weariness from traveling and their spar has begun to seep into the pleasant ache of Drogon’s muscles and he knows that he will sleep good when he finally makes his way back to his den. “You did good, ruhtinatar,” Drogon praises her as she rolls against him. The contact outside of the proverbial sparring ring leaves him with a creeping heat beneath the fur of his cheeks. “If you’re serious about becoming a mercenary Hydra is probably a better teacher than me,” He suggests to her, if only because he knows that her sister is a master warrior. Drogon is past his days of apprenticeship but he has yet to earn his mastery. “Or your dad,” though Drogon doesn’t know Charon well enough to actually make that assumption. They spoke once face to face and that was when Hydra first brought him here. “or I can teach you, if you’d like. I doubt you’re short on mentors here.”

“I hate to cut this short, warrior princess,” The Ansbjørn teases, “but I should probably catch a few hours of shut eye.” He can practically hear his den calling his name. He knows he barely started his patrol but there are plenty of hours in the dawning day for him to finish it, thus he’s not particularly worried about it. He stretches slightly and rolls onto his stomach and before Drogon can really think it through and stop himself he leans over and draws his tongue briefly against her muzzle in a small kiss. “Promise me you won’t patrol on your own?” Though it comes to mind that she could promise him and do it anyway — because that’s something Drogon would do ( as a matter of fact he has done it, it was what had led to his pup-knapping in the first place ).

Yes perfect!

Vela was sad to hear that she would only learn more the next lesson. The girl grinned when the other spoke. "So this is you surrendering then," she spoke in triumph. Her tail was wagging, clearly very proud of herself. Her pride turned into satisfaction when he truly praised her. She liked to do well. She was ambitious and wanted to be the best. "Oh, yeah! Her sister was pretty good with those things and hanging out with her dad also seemed like a fun prospect! Though, she realized that she also liked Drogon. That was something new as he was not family by blood. [b]"I like you teaching me," she spoke forwardly and shrugged.

Vela pouted cutely when he said he needed some sleep. "But it is only early in morning!," she protested slightly, though she wouldn't press the matter if he really wanted to sleep. She looked up, surprised when he gave her a lick. Normally when her dad or mom would give her one it was normal but somehow this one didn't feel normal. Her tail started to wag slightly. She slowly nodded. "I promise I will try," she returned. Vela was true to her word. She might say a lot of arrogant things but she would keep her word if she gave it. So saying that she would try was something that would give her more room to play with. She let Drogon go to his den. She was going to see if Jarilo might want to have a fight with her or... Galaxy. Perfect. The little ruthinatar was pleased.