Who you are SupPOST to be

POSTED: Tue Nov 14, 2017 2:35 pm

The grounds were sleepy this early in the morning, where the sun had just barely given color to the sky and the clouds stretched their shadows long across the hazy, chill-frosted atmosphere. The birds, that had waited a little longer to make way south for the winter, sung a half-hearted tune in the still air; A rhythm pounding through Bathurst making the fowl wary.

Whud. Whud. Whud.


Whud. Whud. Whud.

“The final strike is your goal. Don't ease up. Move into your opponent.”

Whud. Whud. WHUD,” Aaugh!”

“A weapon is useless to you if you are without it. Defend yourself first. If you cannot simply do that against a post... You are not ready for a weapon.”

Shaamah turned away from Zetsu, aggression in his features as he stepped away. The soldier was trying to find a way to make that boy figure it out, but Zets always came back to his emotions. No warrior was worth his weight if he couldn't control himself in Shaamah's mind, but the mahogany male thought differently.

Crouched over himself, his hand in his lap while his other gripped his sore wrist. His chest heaved with pants, his tongue dipping from silvery maw as his glare reached through the corner of his eye at his father. He wasn't defending himself against a post. A small growl formed in his throat, but died down as his eyes slipped to his hand. Blood crept through the cotton wrappings on his knuckles. If Shaamah could only ease up, just a little bit, he was sure he could get it. It was the pressure that he couldn't manage, not yet. He thought to open his mouth to defend himself, but Zetsu knew it was no good. Shaamah was not only better at pretty much everything than he was, but he just seemed smarter. Intimidating. In charge. An ever looming presence waiting for Zets to fail, and when those stern eyes were on him, fail he did.

“Are you done? Oh, I implore you. Please, waste more of my time,” Shaamah had since come back around to Zets as he gripped his wrist, crossing his arms and baring over the younger male. Amethyst and cerulean peeked under the tousled black locks that had escaped from his wildy tied back hair. He relented to his father; Shaamah's gaze reached back to the post,” Sedate yourself. Get back to it,” The soldier ordered. Zetsubo followed through, shaking his hand out and taking stance against the hay packed post once again. Not only would this training bulk up his lanky, motherless son, but it would be reason enough to enter the warrior tiers once again. It wasn't as if there were anyone else to train. Sapient seemed a ghost town at the moment, but there were good reasons why. If anything happened, Sapient would do well to have two soldiers of Shaamah's ability. That was, of Zets could put his useless feelings aside and actually present a real fight to a post.

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