Luperci had a penchant for introducing all sorts of complicated tactics into doing thing, though Skoll didn’t dwell too much on this fact due to how he’d been brought up amongst the other courtiers. He did fall into the old ways, though, perhaps a trait from his father and his preference for a four-legged form, perhaps some latent characteristic of the wolf fighting within the blond dog. He did nod when the other mentioned having fought like that before. “I think it’s best to hunt like that,” the boy added sagely, crossing his arms. “I mean, if you’re desperate, you can use a bow,” he amended, smiling lopsidedly. “But that’s boring.”
The conversation turned more serious, and Silvano straightened from leaning on the dummy. His sympathies were really sincere, and Skoll found another reason to trust him with the leadership. He was sad to hear about his sister’s coma, though maybe if Ayita had only fallen into something sort of like that for a while, she could recover too. Even if she didn’t get all the way better, he didn’t mind; so long as she wasn’t in pain, he could help her as much as she needed with hunting and all those other things. He kept these thoughts to himself, though, only smiling graciously at the other’s words.
That smile flared with heat and light as the Sadira suggested a spar, and the young man’s ears twitched at the sound of the daggers dropping. Unconsciously, he began to shift his posture as instinct told him to, adopting more of a fighter’s stance though the transformation was subtle. This was what he needed—a real breathing Luperci to brawl against, to shape his skills and point out his weaknesses, without the added complication of real conflict.
“What do you say?” were the Constable’s final words, and Skoll grinned a cheeky grin as his only reply and warning before lunging for the grey wolf, feinting a blow at him just to see how serious their new leader was about all this.
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