Broken Boulder haven't seen you much of late

Reyson knew too much at his age. Too much loss, too much pain. He had lost his parents, he had fought and maimed and won. He had loved and lost. A small ache had started in his chest, when he realized he was training this youth to possibly die. No, he refused to entertain that thought. This youth was not part of his former pack, he was not training a solder, he was training a youth to better survive. Reyson shook his head. A gentle smile on his ruddy face.

Sometimes little two tone. I feel a weak man.

A rare flare of anger lit up the innards of Reyson. Whomever, had been in charge of this youth had treated him abysmally. And it wrankled. Were he to find out whom that was, he would rip his throat out purely on principle. So Reyson backed off, ears foward waiting for the youngling to get control of their emotions.

Reyson watched with unusual gentle gaze. We can try as many times as you like.

He began to circle again, though this time he puposely made them wider and away from the youth. Ears forward, eyes on them. Normally he would growl to mimic, but he was fearful it would cause too much fright.