Swiftcurrent Creek Barb

Heartbreak drove a big black car and Swordfish sat in the back, watching with unphased eyes as the world passed him by.

The young redtail had taken to the borders of the creek, patrolling until his legs were too weak to hold him up. He had worked to learn the extent of their claim. It was nothing like the cliffs of his home. He missed the salt air. He missed the cries of the gulls from the stone. Time spent alone was a means to think of the things he had lost or left behind.

He thought of his mother, of his brother, of Suzu and Quennell. When the thoughts became too much for him, Shardik set out to find @Moss. She would put his wounded body to work.

The scent of Shardik along the borders at first made her suspect he might be trying to sneak out, unnoticed- until she realized that he'd been travelling along them, patrolling. That was all well and good enough. The more wolves who tracked along the borders, the more formidable they would seem to any wolves passing by, though having a wounded child patrolling might also give the wrong impression. 

She'd caught a hare, and was on her way to find him when she spotted him heading her way. She gave him a low growl of greeting, and heaved the rabbit toward him with a flick of her head. Not caring particularly where it landed (though her aim had been spot-on) she sat down, and began licking some of the blood from her ruff. She'd teach him- but she intended for him to recover, as well. Being fed was a part of that.

The woman approached with a rabbit. She tossed it toward him, growling low in her voice. The young redtail did not hesitate to accept her offer. He nearly yiped in thanks. The taste of food was euphoric. He tore away at the meat and swallowed in gulps, finding it difficult when he didn’t take the time to chew it. Moss sat and said nothing while the seafarer ate.

When he had almost picked the rabbit clean, Shardik lifted his head and eyed the strong-featured wolf.

What will ya teach me today, Moss? he inquired, lazy brogue ringing through in his voice. Despite his wounds and the long trek from the sea to the creek, he seemed ready to put himself to work. Tired and broken, but trying.

He was ravenous, which she appreciated. She wouldn't always give him food simply because he was hungry, but she would need him to get bigger and stronger if she wanted to shape him into anything. The young man was overtired, malnourished and injured, and she knew that even with a hopeful spirit, physical ailments would catch up with him sooner or later, and she wouldn't have it. 

He wanted a task, and she frowned at him softly. He was eager, but she would not overlook his current condition. Maybe he thought she was going to put him into sparring lessons right away- or hound him on his patrols- but he'd be wrong if he'd made those assumptions. Plus- he'd just eaten. She wasn't going to give him a stomach cramp or make him work until he puked, not when she'd just spent her own energy finding him food.

"Self-care." She said. It likely sounded a bit soft so her next words were louder, more abrupt "Stand up." She commanded. She moved so that she would be parallel to him, and could see him with a simple turn of her head. "Stretches." She informed him, and uttered a soft grunt. Sure- every wolf knew how to stretch- but not all of them knew how important they were, or how much better movement would feel after the muscles were warmed up. 

The first stretch she would show him was a simple movement- one he likely already knew. She leaned back, and stretched her forelegs out before her, splaying her toes slightly while she arched her back in a deep S curve. She tilted her chin up, so she could feel the muscles in the underside of her neck grow warm. She held the position for a moment, and then rose, leaning forward so that her balance was placed ahead. Her haunches lowered and she stretched out each back leg, one at a time, straight behind her. This time, she bowed her head, and felt the muscles along her nape and down between her shoulders pull; a joint popped, softly. She hummed a soft sigh of contentment. 

All of her movements were steady, careful. She watched Shardik then, so she might inform him how to move as well. "Slow." She stated, preventatively.

The woman’s coldness was expected, but her answer was not.

Swordfish drew his ears to a point at the mention of self care. This was not the way of fighters, was it? She wanted him to stretch. The boy thought that she was making it easy on him, that her intensity had shifted to something more akin to pity. He did not like the feeling that it left in his belly.

Face bloodied, he stood and winced only a little at the pain in his broken rib and gashed side. There was fire in him, yes. He would not disrespect her by speaking out against her instruction, though. He needed this powerful beast of a woman to tell him more – to teach him. Swordfish needed to be certain that the bear would die. He could not return any other way.

The first stretch she demonstrated was a simple one. The boy watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. He was overconfident and in his mimicry of it, he hissed out a breath of air in pain. The broken rib was like a firecracker in his side. Swordfish didn’t want Moss to see him acting like that, though. He clenched his teeth and stretched his toes out until he felt his back ease into something looser.

A sigh fell from the seafarer’s lips.

Gettin’ too overzealous fer me own good. It might have been how he’d talk to Suzu, if she were there.

Swordfish’s expression flattened. Suzu was dead. Mom and dad and Ray had to run away. The rest of them were dead.

The movements caused him pain, and she saw it coming. After his hiss, she reiterated one word: "Slow." He couldn't just be jerking himself around in these stretches or he'd pull at his scabs, and tug at healing tendons. If he couldn't even stretch, he wasn't fit to fight just yet, not without risking further injury. 

"Always stretch." She said. "Morning, evening. Before hunting," She advised. She set her right paw on the ground, a bit away from her body, and leaned away from it, craning her neck to look as far as she could over her left shoulder. She could feel the tug in the muscle along the right side of her neck, and down into her shoulder. She did the same for the other side- and licked her lips with satisfaction when she heard a joint in her neck pop again. 

She shook, then, fluffing out her pelt. She could feel the subtle warmth of supple muscles beginning to warm up again. She waited for him to do the same.

Alright, always stretch.

Swordfish wasn’t interested in casting aside her sagely words of advice, but he didn’t exactly want to limber himself up every morning. It felt like something for the elderly. He may have been battered by a bear, but he was a young man. He had braved the journey from the cliffs to the unknown creek. He had cast aside thoughts of his missing family and the dead members of Sapphique.

How long ya been big’n scary?

The redtail boy glanced toward her with a slight wariness. He wasn’t sure if Moss would take kindly to probing questions about her past. She seemed to keep things close to her chest. Swordfish only wanted to know a bit more about the powerful woman who would be teaching him.

After she had ruffled her coat, he did the same. The boy winced only once.

This lesson didn't seem to be meeting his expectations, though she was stubborn enough to insist that time spent stretching was always valuable. He'd learn, eventually. He'd come to know the difference between working muscles that were cold and tense, and working with muscles that were supple and warm. One led to injury, the other to victory. 

His question didn't amuse her- but the look of him with his fur fluffed out did. She huffed in approval. "Big, always. Scary...Depends." She said with a shrug. She gestured. "Now we jog. Warm-up." She said, shifting away and transitioning her pace smoothely from a standstill to a surprisingly flowy trot for someone of her size.

Always big, she answered.

Swordfish was unable to stop himself from imagining Moss being birthed in all her full-size glory. He knew little about the trials of mothers and carrying litters, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman who had carried this warrior in her womb. Perhaps Moss’ mother was twice her size and even stronger.

She said that they would jog next. The redtail boy lifted his eyes to her and nodded. Moss moved into a quicker step and then fell into an easy trot that bounced the muscles along her thick frame. She was surprisingly graceful, Swordfish noted. The young seafarer loped at her side. His long legs allowed him to keep pace with her.

She let him move forward and find a pace beside her, and gave him a few moments to settle into his gait before she turned her head to appraise his movements. He loped. "Jog," She instructed, wanting him to move alongside her in a two-beat pattern. She intended to fine-tune him from the ground up- and that meant making sure that his movements were sound, so he could be properly balanced. She would slow her pace a bit of necessary, to keep him in an easy jog that he should be able to sustain for long periods of time. 

"Keep your neck muscles engaged," She instructed. "But not tense," She advised. When she looked forward, the line down her spine from where it began at the base of her head down to the point at her hips moved very little, aside from a slight flex with each pace. She didn't sway from side to side, nor did she allow her belly to sag or her head to bob. As such, she kept her figure supported, and cut a figure that appeared firm and focused, without putting tension into her joints. "Let your leg joints- all the way down to your toes- cushion each step," She said. This gave her the slight bounce to her step, and it was where her momentum came from.

Jog.

Swordfish bite back the response that threatened to break from his mouth. He was doing the best that he could considering the wounds he wore. Without retorting, the young wolf stepped into the same motion she carried. It felt painful, only for a second or two until he had found the rhythm in it.

Moss instructed him to keep his neck muscles engaged, not tense. He felt that he had never considered his neck muscles when running. It felt like something his body knew. Finding instruction in it had drawn his mind to the way his other muscles felt when jogging beside the warrior woman. Swordfish had never considered his body in this way.

The bounce that carried her into her next steps was visible. Silver-flecked eyes followed each outstretch of her paws, each forward motion, until he had newfound admiration for the woman.

Moss would teach him many things.

He found his muscles, and worked them- balancing himself in such a way that would give him more thrust to his step with less energy output. Using momentum to add buoyancy to his stride, he’d get an extra couple of inches to each step. He would be a traveller in no time.

”Good!” she grunted emphatically; high praise to flatter him when she saw that he had found his stride. He looked not only more confident, but more powerful as well. 

It would not take a great deal of conditioning for him to reach his potential- he was a fast learner, and in spite of his injuries, he was a willing pupil. 

She listened to his breath- to hear it even out once he hit his second wind. She’d carry on until she felt he’d had a good bit of exercise without straining his muscles before she cuffed softly and slowed their pace to a rangy walk. 

”We’ll do this every day. You’ll get good conditioning from this. Give it some time, so your muscles heal. Then, we will start sparring. Sound good?”

I am gonna make us a new one. <3

As they slowed, Swordfish felt what the sustained motion had done for him. His muscles were loose and thrumming with the jog that had carried them. The gashes against his ribs ached. It was a common pain that he had grown used to. If they were to do as she suggested – run every day – then the wounds would learn to manage and to heal around the physical exercise.

Once he’d healed, Moss said that they would spar.

The young seafarer lifted his heavy-lidded stare to her and nodded.

Good, the boy huffed. His red tail flicked from side to side. I got a lot to learn.