Golden Glade Vans

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Astik smirks as he watches his mother drop into a play bow. He does not think in a real fight they will be play bowing but this is just training, he reminds himself. In an effort to copy his mother turned mentor Astik’s front lowers to the ground while his butt wiggles in the air with a rising snicker in his throat. It is cut short by a burst of laughter and “Hey!” as Tapat jumps at him. His pale brother collides with him as gravity pulls him down from his jump and Astik’s balance is thrown off kilter. Still not used to the bulk and the weight of his body he wobbles like a jenga tower teetering unsteadily. The rook manages to keep himself from tumbling to the earth and bears his teeth at Tapat playfully. “Get in the play bow position, Pat.” Astik reprimands Tapat with clear affection. “Mom’s gonna show us how to defend ourselves.” He reminds his pallid brother gently, with a patience that far exceeds his age. Amber gaze slides back to his mother awaiting her instructions.

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