Stavanger Bay the thief and the moon

@Dalia

The wraith moved from the sea and onto the shore, dripping water from every inch of his massive frame as he swept toward the middle of the bay. The power beneath the coarse and inky cloak was evident when the water forced it to cling to his frame. Still, while he had just emerged from the sea, the jagged quills of fur along his neck and shoulders had already started to rise upward. A chilling winter wind whipped across the stretch of the bay and forced him to shudder beneath its touch. They would have months remaining before the sun would grace them with warmth and heat, but it provided them with a great opportunity to endure the hardships that the colder seasons brought.

Once he had reached the mid section of the beach, the warhound turned his head down the length of their claim and sought the image of Dalia. It had been enough time that she should have been more than prepared for their lesson. With a small frown, the skeletal brute drew his head back and called for her. Then, he waited to see if she would arrive to learn what he had to offer.

when she heard the call she took off towards the midland, her tail swinging behind her. she was nervous-- for some reason-- but she tried not to let it get the best of her. maybe she was just afraid of disappointing ford-- or failing so terribly that she was just beyond teachable. she didn't think that that would be a problem... after all, her father was their wocha. beyond that, she knew that two of her siblings were training to be gone. she had it in her, somewhere, but oh... she so greatly resembled her sweet, delicate mother. she wondered what portia was doing now...

she approached swiftly, her gait slowing as she came upon him. her head dipped in a respectful greeting, her tail still waving. "good morning, ford," she greeted softly. 

i couldn't find if u mentioned a time so. hi it's morning.

It took her only a short amount of time before she found where he had called to her. The eager wagging of her tail was a good sign, but he searched her features like a prowling jaguar waiting for the opportune moment to strike its prey. Her greeting was soft and brushed against his ears like the fresh touch of a springtime breeze. There was a moment in which he questioned whether or not it was intelligent of him to teach her to fight. That was until he realized that it would have been entirely hypocritical of him not to – they were designed to overcome their hardships and move beyond the weaknesses that had been given to them.

“Good morning, Dalia. Are you ready to start your training?” the warhound inquired of her with as much of a warm tone as he could provide and a slight tilting of his skeletal crown. The sharpness of his gaze did not shift or change as he stared down the length of his muzzle at her. If his eyes were not hollow and void of emotion, they would have been brimming with fire.

dalia nodded. though his gaze pierced her the same as always, she was slowly growing more accustomed to it. it was still strange and mysterious and oh so stiff... it made her feel like she was trapped, in a way. but she was growing used to feeling trapped beneath it-- so much so that rather than feeling trapped, she found the space beneath his gaze quite comfortable. in a way. 

"i am," she said, a bit louder than before-- sounding pretty sure of herself. was it a facade? perhaps, but only time would tell-- and she seemed committed to the training, at least. that was all that mattered.

The girl confirmed that she was prepared for their session. This was pleasing to the warhound, as he had imagined that it had taken her a while to come to terms with the preparation to fight. Battle was a ruthless and terrible thing to find skill in, but she had – perhaps – arranged her lessons from the perfect example. While he did not always agree with his father, Ford had made Skellige proud of him for one thing; his capability in war. There was nothing that would stop him from reaping what he desired, and he was indomitable on the battlefield. The skeletal titan had not lost a single fight that he had participated in. The wolves of Warsaw had looked to him for many things, but he was first and foremost a champion.

“Where do you believe you require the most care? I imagine we should begin with the basics... attack, defense, knowing when to flee,” Ford spoke carefully. He had considered simply throwing himself to her, fangs bared and ready to strike. Logic told him that she would not have taken kindly to such a violent introduction. The plan was to assist her in every aspect of a fight, but he knew that they had to start somewhere.

"i..." started dalia, only to pause and reevaluate what she wanted to say. knowing when to flee. well, dalia knew when to flee... at least, she thought. but she probably should've fled from the sandy man. and it got her in a bad situation -- a pretty big pickle, if you will. maybe she didn't know. she knew, at least, in an outwardly hostile situation, that she would know when to flee. her case had been... special. oh dear.

"defense," she then said, more sure of it now than she had originally started, "i want to be able to defend myself first." that would be a good first step, dalia would reckon.

It seemed that the question he had posed to her was one of importance, and so the brute did not rush her as she took her time in deciding what it was that she wanted to start with. No matter what, he would turn her into a capable beast physically. If that was her weakness, she would grow beyond it and learn from the path in life that she had not found an affinity with. Dalia might have been a skilled healer and caregiver, but Ford believed that she could be skilled in all things. It was valuable to be so, even if it didn't appear that way in the moment.

Defense was her priority to begin with. It was fitting that she would pick this path, after the attack that she had endured by the red-furred stranger. Ford nodded his head stoically to the freckled girl. “I am going to attempt to pin you, and I would like you to attempt to defend yourself in the only way you know how. We will discuss after we have completed the exercise,” he instructed her in a firm voice. Then, the warhound tensed his muscles and sprung toward her with gaping jaws and glimmering fangs of ivory.

oh! so much easier said than done. dalia nodded when ford gave her instructions but she just wasn't well-trained. not yet, anyway. even saucy's side lessons (which were more lax and fun! it was saucy, after all) weren't enough background. ford was massive, and in his gaze he held the might of a thousand ocean waves, stormy and crashing onto the shore. dalia, in all her glory, could hardly stand against one wave. and as they crashed down upon her, she could only think of the golden man and how he had come upon her. 

she didn't freeze, but she didn't do much.

it was instinct to duck her throat away from him, if anything, so she merely ducked her head and scrambled backwards from him, a low growl rumbling in her chest.

Oh, Dalia... she was so quick to abandon any rational thought that should have taken control of her frame in the moment that he had jumped toward her. Surely, she had felt a familiar ache in the presence of a man who aimed to pin her to the earth. For that, he should have felt sorry for the girl; he should have not approached her with such severity on their first attempt. He could not feel anything for her or the pain that she had suffered. He wanted only for her to grow stronger so that she would never know such fears again.

The freckled girl ducked to protect her neck and seemed to scramble away from him. The problem with backing away with her head low was that she did not know where she was going and had placed herself at a great disadvantage. The warhound made quick work of the space between them and aimed to clasp his teeth to her scruff and pin her to the earth.

and he did exactly that. 

his teeth found easy purchase in her scruff and dalia was, moments later, pinned to the ground beneath him. she struggled, momentarily, but ultimately gave up. it was no use. she was too weak to resist him and had given up too valuable a piece of her protection -- her scruff. it hurt to pull too much against him, and since it was just a lesson -- and not life or death -- she opted not to rip her own flesh apart. 

dalia let out a soft whine. she'd been defeated -- quite easily.

The warhound met his mark and felt as the girl seemed to crumble beneath the weight of him. Her body was smaller than his own. She did not even turn to meet him with her own weapons. Instead, she was met with sand and he released his hold on her as soon as she had been pinned. Stepping back once, Ford peered down at the girl with an unreadable expression. The hollow glimmer of his gaze did not speak of pity or worry; it merely studied her with a fierce intensity. Perhaps he had expected that she would do more, but that was his first mistake. He knew that he should not have expected anything from one as soft as the freckled girl.

“What do you think you could have done differently?” the titan asked her in a soft tone. He lowered his head so that he could look at the shimmering sea green of her eyes. It was a learning experience; he did not aim to harm her in any way. Still, based on that sole interaction... she had a lot to learn.

he released her, and though dalia desperately wanted to lie in the sand and wallow in failure... she raised herself. the freckled ocean girl, sand coating her cheek, stared at the ground at ford's feet. he asked her a question, in a tone that didn't strike her as angry -- which was good. she was quiet a minute, trying to decide if 'literally anything' was an appropriate answer. instead, meekly, she said, "fight... back?" slowly, her gaze raised to his striking features, brow furrowed as she tried to decipher what the right answer was. instinct said protect your throat -- instinct said duck away -- but dalia did not account for all that followed. "maybe -- keep my head up?"

The initial response that was offered wasn't necessarily wrong, but the titan knew that there was a great deal of discomfort in the meek tone of her voice. It furthered his belief that she was an intellect, first and foremost. She had the same penchant for tending to others as he recalled seeing in his mother. It was bittersweet to know that he had found himself in a similar place as his father – who had offered lessons to Deirdre in order to repay her for tending to his wounds. Ford knew that he had not struck a deal with Dalia, but he had taken it upon himself to see her grow into the best version of herself.

“You know... you do not have to fight if you do not wish to,” he said in a soft voice. The warhound latched his hollow sights on the girl's freckled face and his brow furrowed. “There are some who have taken vows of peace – they do no harm. You are not required to adopt the life of a warrior.” He had promised that he would help her overcome the attack she had suffered. Ford knew that teaching her to fight would have many benefits, but not if she was unwilling.