Okay I am assuming that he wants to spar, if that is wrong, please dm me and let me know and I will absolutely change it. And if that is the case do you do paragraph style or dice roll?
Artok had been called forth from the inside of the pack lands to the side of the wolf Arashi. He had shown up promptly, his limp as always pronounced, but not hindering him as much as it would another. He had gotten used to it, was quick to move despite his limitations. He was adept at using three legs, for more than the torn shoulder.
Artok blinked.
You wish to spar, very well.
Artok lowered into a guarded position, tail motionless behind him. He shifted so that the bum leg, was not within reach, his large left shoulder and legs in the way. He prowled around and struck, feinted one way and then the other, short burst to keep from stumbling on the bum leg as he had taught himself and snapped at the shoulder or face of his commander.
He would guard his right side, and attack low.
Me too lol. <3
It had been some time since Artok had sparred or even fought, but his memory soon was fished and ready to go. He moved swiftly into position and was ready to go. He was all for being prepared. Especially given that Fury had said there were enemies.
Artok knew that his limp was easily noticed it and guarding it brought attention to it, but he wasn't certain what else to do there. If he tried to use his leg it caused him issues, and he faltered.
Artok was bowled over and he fought to correct with the weak side. He snarled and sniped, he wavered for a moment. Having to do a hopping shuffle to get his feet back under him, but he would have been dead were the attack to kill. He frowned in disgust at his own weakness, and as much as he woudl hate it. He would need to ask his general how to correct it.