Wapun Meadow give 'em hell, kid

@Merrit

It had been a few days, and he was here, as promised. The fog had shifted in to a light array of cloud cover, and the clouds drifted fat and heavy across the sky; he thought he could smell rain, but it didn't put a halt to his plans. If the boy wanted to learn, he would teach him. Rain would only make things a little more challenging — and the most important lesson he could give to the young warrior was to always keep fighting. Challenges were hard for a reason, but when you came out victorious on the other side, you knew you were stronger.

Tulimaq paced through the meadow and halted when the forest came in to view, but he didn't seek out the cover of the trees. He was more interested in being easy to find for the boy, and this way he'd have a strong enough vantage point to see any oncoming dangers as well. If the lessons were not welcome, or if his family chose to come after Tulimaq for his involvement, then he would see the danger coming.

Keeping this vague, since I'm not sure if Valette will give the go ahead or not! Mar and I are in the talks (:

Once he had left the man of Tartok, Merrit realized he should have asked what 'a few days' meant to him - because for all the maturity he tried to show, Merrit was still a child, and still made every rookie mistake. Inwardly, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten to ask something so obvious, but there was little he could do now except learn from his mistake, and somehow work within the boundaries of what they'd planned.

This meant more diligence for him, and Merrit quickly adopted a routine pattern of stealing to the meadow at dawn, sunhigh, and dusk to see if the man had returned, scouring the fringes for his scent, and retiring to Easthollow only when he was certain he hadn't missed Tulimaq while he had been away. It had been some days since the warrior had made his promise - what definitely felt like more than a few - but Merrit refused to believe that Tulimaq was lying when he said he would train him. He just had to keep his hopes up, and keep coming back.

Today, Merrit arrived at the meadow when the sun would have been at its highest, though he couldn't really tell. He didn't really care, and anyway, his weary mind was more taken by the tall and waiting shadow who broke up the usual horizon, and his countenance seemed to brighten. It was like every weight he carried fell off to be left in the meadow grass, and he raced with a levity he hardly felt these days at all. "Tulimaq!" he greeted in his quiet excitement, once he had drawn near enough, and a rare smile touched his face. "You came."

Works for me!

Before long the attention of Tulimaq caught upon a dark shape by the fringe of the woodland, and soon enough that shape was bee-lining straight for his position. He waited to see if there was anyone else on the way, any bodies giving chase to the canine shape, but when it became clear the boy was alone he knew not to be too worried. He watched the boy approach with a scrutinizing gaze; Tulimaq studied what he could of the boy's running style, the reach of his limbs, whether he was a burst runner or if he held anything back. Perhaps in his excitement he did not consider anything besides his oncoming lessons, but from what the tutor could see, the boy was going full-tilt through the meadow.

There was a natural ease to the way the boy moved. Tulimaq judged that, with training and practice, the boy could make himself in to quite the long-distance runner. He was destined to be a large creature and his long strides had devoured the distance between Easthollow and the center of the meadow, which was promising.

His greeting was met with a chuff but not much else. He did not make promises lightly, and the flippant comment from the boy showed his doubt. I assume all is well at home? he responded without bringing his thoughts to light — he was referring instead to the boy's mother and the garnering of her permission. If he was here without it, that would put Tulimaq in to a dangerous position and he wasn't eager to have an entire pack become his enemy over something as trivial as a few lessons.

A shock of heat rushed the length of Merrit's neck, and he barely managed to keep himself from tripping over his paws. How could Tulimaq know about Stark? But just as quickly as the thought came upon him, understanding followed and swallowed its place. Things were not well at home - but that wasn't what the warrior was asking.

His ears still burned, but he nodded, stiff and composed - or trying to be, hoping the man hadn't caught his near stumble. "All's good, as long as my brother watches," he said with the slightest frown, and speaking of which - he turned, and sent a short howl to beckon @Ezra to the meadow. If he had been braver (or anything of a fool) he wouldn't have called him at all; even now some darkened part of him raged with the want to kick out against Valette's verdict, but his heart ached at the very thought of betraying his mother's trust. How could he? Valette hadn't been the slightest bit thrilled at the idea of him training with a stranger, but he at least could understand, somewhat, in part. At the end of things she hadn't said no, and at least she had chosen Ezra to watch him and not someone else.

He turned back to Tulimaq with question in his eyes. Merrit knew some wolves didn't like talking, while others did - and he realized that apart from a title and a name, he honestly didn't what kind of wolf Tulimaq was. Would he appreciate his questions? His want to know? Or would his words only irritate him and turn him away? It was safer to be quiet, it was always safer, so Merrit let his body speak the readiness his tongue wouldn't let him.

12/3/18—Merrit is on PPC! Adding a conclusion and archiving.

Merrit was eager, which was a good sign. The downside was that he called out for another — summoning a silver-clad boy to his side soon after his arrival. Tulimaq did not like this; he observed the second boy shooting across the meadow, and felt instantly put-off. It wasn't that the child was weak or otherwise unwelcome, but he had made a deal with Merrit, not this other child. He knew it would be wise to teach them both, ingratiate himself to their mother — yet Tulimaq was formulating other options.

He watched Merrit, waited for the other boy to join them, and then stated flatly: We will begin, then.

And in the next moment, without explanation, Tulimaq bolted. He stopped when he was a good measure away, and then his voice boomed: First you will need to catch me, boy. He wanted to see Merrit move, get a grasp for how he employed those long limbs, used the space available, his breathing — there was much to study. As soon as the order was issued, Tulimaq was rounding through the meadow again; it would be easy to keep away from the boy, but it was his hope that he could bait him, test his limits.

The hours wore on; when the boy managed to catch up to him, Tulimaq proposed a few drills and showed both Merrit and his friend how to properly utilize their footwork, although the going was slow considering the lack of previous training shared between the two youth. The more effort he put in the better, but Tulimaq soon realized that these boys were not like the children of his own kin — they were raised by passive beasts, and likely wouldn't be as skilled as a creature born to Tartok no matter how much he trained them. This hurt him deeply, but he kept such things to himself. Once the lesson ended he complimented both boys for their efforts, and bid them farewell.