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"It all begins with discipline—self control," the soft melody responded quietly. That was perhaps the most important entity for a warrior. There were many ‘fighters’ out in the world who possessed little or no self control; while such creatures were dangerous, they were also easily conquered, for without control technique and training are nothing. And it was important for Catalyst to learn this now. Should the white pup decide to walk the path of the warrior, she would need to know such a thing. "Then you begin with the basics, learning the skills needed to train and discipline the body. Through this, you learn your strengths and weaknesses, and you can chose what kind of warrior to become." Not all creatures were the same, and, as was to be expected, each had a different strength. Through the strength, a great warrior could emerge, and through the understanding of the weakness, a greater warrior. Cwmfen herself was a warrior that fought primarily through her body without the aid of weapons. While she did learn and attempt to master many weapons, it was not as impressive as the use of her body. That was not to say that she could not best many when sparring with a sword or bo or knife, but she preferred her own body. It was a preference that most likely arose from her natural and less humanesque life. The white orbs watched the young girl carefully. "If you decide to walk that path, I will be there to help you." Whether or not she would decide such a thing was not known to the black fae, but she knew that she would guide the young girl if that path were to be chosen. While she had never taught another from the beginning, she had aided in perfecting skill with Ezekiel. And she would do her best with her own packmembers.
When Catalyst inquired about her wounds, a light smile graced the black fae’s maw. "There was another wolf—an adult—that wanted to eat her, and he did not want to give up his meal," the soft alto explained. Once she said it, the woman realized that it would sound like the stories told to frighten pups, but it was very much a real threat. "I would have killed him," the woman continued, her words not lessened for the ears of the pup, for she was not aware that such a thing may have been necessary. "But I did not have enough strength," she admitted openly, without shame but perhaps with a hint of frustration. "Luckily neither did he." Perhaps, if the male had called her bluff, she would have been killed. But she was accustom to such a concept, accustom to the brush of Death. And she had not been afraid. Her only concern then had been the safety of the pup. And now she would be able to live another day and perhaps save another. But the warrior could not hate Brennt, for he gave to her that which she loved: battle. The Adonis knew, however, that he could not be suffered to live because he had threatened those of her pack. That she knew.
"Yes, the humans made the homes here," the warrior confirmed with a quiet nod. "And nature is slowly reclaiming her land." Indeed those edificial remains were slowly decaying if they had not already, and the trees and foliage and moss had grown upon the stone and wood. "But," the woman said suddenly, "They provide homes for wolves that prefer houses to dens. Some even build new ones." Henratha was one such wolf that she had learned could build the things that humans had built, at least out of wood. But the black fae did not doubt that there were others in the land who had learned such a trade. The child of Nemain, however, could only hope that the canines of this age did not make the same mistakes that the humans had.
A brighter smile characterized the woman’s maw. With the young girl’s approval of the water’s quality, the woman rose. Her initial movements were stiff for the scars that freshly marred her body, but with the encouragement of motion, she swiftly regained her grace. For a moment the woman stood at the edge, looking down at the shallow shore of the pool. Then she lowered her front legs into the pool, feeling the cool water lap at her ankles. Gracefully, the warrior lowered the rest of her body and joined the girl, the white orbs watching the tadpoles scatter. "The water is nice," the quiet alto agreed. Quietly, with minimal ripples, the woman pushed herself into the deeper waters of the pool, paddling to keep herself afloat. The cool temperature eased the agitation felt within the healing scars; where most would disappear, some would remain to mark her skin, but the fur would keep them quietly away. The white orbs watched the darker colours of the depths before she looked up to Catalyst. "Can you swim?" she inquired, inviting the pup to explore that part of the pool.
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