Dragoncrest Cliffs I'll make a man out of you

For @Rosencrantz but others welcome

Over a week had passed since Njord had been escorted to his den to heal. He had been thankful to claim the old little nook upon first arriving to Sapphique, as it afforded him a quite and safe place to rest up. Slowly, with @Erzulie’s attention, his wounds healed. Eventually, Njord took small walks to stretch his injured leg. He was lucky to be a young man. Without his youth, the buccaneer might have developed a limp.

He fed from the caches placed by his pack-mates and built his strength back. Though the Sveijarn-Corten was not a patient man, he understood that patience was key if he were to win back his dream lady. It was a balmy, but sunny, winter afternoon when Njord finally felt well enough to begin his training. He set out to find the two-faced @Rosencrantz, eager to grow in strength so that he may win back @Valmúaa.

Uncertain with how serious Njord was in his quest to win back his lover from a neighboring pack, Rosencrantz had left the mention of training the flame-licked ward on the backburner in his thoughts. Brushing it off and half believing it would not come to fruition as the boy's adrenaline would fade and eventually coming to his senses. His daily routine only broken by the sight of that same individual coming out looking as spry as ever as if there were no puss-filled wounds just weeks prior to today. 

With an acknowledging nod, he expected their paths would simply cross and both men moving on to their own duties... still, he wondered, did Njord really aspire to have a rematch with his rival male?

Some might see determination in the islander, but others would spot fixation or obsession. Njord had a knack for never letting anything go… maybe the only trait he shared with his blood-brother. When the pale soldier came into view his pace hastened, a wide smile stretching the patch of freshly healed skin on his face where the fur had yet to grow back. “Avast, it’s Rosencrantz!” he crowed. His trot transformed into a loping gallop as he sidled up next to the man.

“Perfect day fer a bit of trainin’, isn’t it Rose?” Njord queried with a wink of a blue eye, animated and boisterous. “Erzulie made me right as rain, never felt better!” He paused to gauged his pack-mate’s reaction.

Quickly all his questions were answered as Njord swiftly found his way to the goliath's side and matched his gait, breaking the silence with a bold declaration of training happening today. Is that so? Even now and then a bit of humor slid over the giant and this was one of those times. Lightly, jokingly, all in the same grave baritone tones that barely signaled a joke, questioning Njord's health and ability to train now. 

So if we were to spar here and now, you could keep up? Through a spar is the only way he knew how to help someone train. To sharpen their senses, reflexes and build the necessary muscles in order to go toe to toe with an opponent in battle. Hunting, fighting, and running all took different types of strength... and in battle is where Rosencrantz excelled.

The knight humored his ambitious protégé with a drawling question, but even Njord could pick up the undertone of amusement in his deep voice. Rosencrantz was like a great steel ship: steady, strong, and stern – yet sometimes the sun smiled upon its polished metal.

His next question took the islander by surprise. Njord figured his master would have him run laps, push stones, and wax cars (or something) before asking to practice combat. “Aye, these sealegs can keep up,” he chirped, hopping from paw to paw to show his injured leg was spry as ever. Njord stopped walking, waiting to see if Rosencrantz would face him. “I’m ready…”

The knight wasted no time once Njord confirmed that he was ready and prepared to begin his training, here and now. Once the flame tailed man stopped walking and seemed to prepare himself for battle, Rosencrantz had a near-complete shift in his stance and approach. In a flash, he curled around to snap at Njord, not with the intent of seizing or piercing the boy's skin, but this lunge was more or less to test out his defenses and reaction time.

Of course, should he be too slow, the young man wouldn't be spared some kind of small injury to pay for his lack of seriousness in this training he asked for.

Rosencrantz’s demeanor changed like the weather. Suddenly he stiffened, biting at Njord who was only mildly prepared. Kigipigak had attacked in the same way – deftly and without warning.

“Woah!” Njord blurted as he just barely managed to evade Rosencrantz’s strike. He felt a few strands of brown hair pulled from his body, now flossing the knight’s incisors. He shifted his weight back, on the defensive, and tried to steady his footing. Already he felt the urge to run, a creeping sense he could not best the Emerald. Maybe he had lost his chutzpah in the fight over Valmua.

The islander did his best to lock away thoughts of inadequacy. Rose was going to train him up… and Njord knew he needed to pay attention to these lessons.

With a snarl (maybe to hype himself up) Njord parried the attack and sought to grab his mentor’s ruff.

The young ward was not even close to elegant in his dodge. Sensing the unease in Njord's stance and expression, he snapped again, leaning into the flame-tail's space further and invading it just as any other opponent would in this situation. Just like in a real combat, here there would be no rest, no time to gather your thoughts but to make muscles react almost instinctively in order to save one's own skin. 

Always be ready. is all the said in order to help Njord understand what was happening. At any given moment anyone could turn, and one had to always be ready for the worst, especially when they weren't packmates or allies in any way. To learn and pay attention to everyone's body language and even the smallest of change in the air about them. 

Snap, snap, snap! His jaws hungrily threatened Njord and demanded for him to do more than just play defensive - as if should he just continuously back up, eventually the teeth would find their mark on the lad's skin. Saliva bursting at the corners of his lips with every clack of fangs as they clashed against eachother.

Like radar, Rosencrantz could detect holes his pupil’s amateur form. The master left no space for Njord to recover. Snap, snap, snap! His gnashing teeth pressed into the red-tail’s defenses relentlessly. He struggled to comprehend the correct course of action to take, mind mired. He wasn’t thinking, he was just doing.

Always be ready, Rosencrantz said sternly. An enemy would give no quarter. This was an important lesson. Njord nodded as his sides heaved from effort – physical and mental. There was a mind-body connection that he lacked… but eventually, he would hone his skills like a sharpened blade.

Again he came. Snap, snap, snap! His clacking fangs threatened Njord’s defenses once again as he pushed into his zone. He couldn’t back up forever! With great effort Njord turned to the side and made a move to counter his sensei.

~

They would continue on like this until Njord could no longer stand, completely exhausted from training. Rosencrantz would spar him again and again, training the seafarer and sharing his knowledge of the art of battle.