Now that their numbers and activity were increasing, Gent was growing accustomed to hearing song swim through the mountaintop trees. The sheer instance of notes piecing the air no longer alarmed him, though he would forever stiffen just slightly in apprehension of the worst, as it was simply his nature to always be prepared. Thus when his ears first registered the summons, his muscles braced, but swiftly this tension was released as his mind deciphered the benign nature of the call.



Departing from his current task of strengthening scent markers throughout the territory, Gent hauled his massive self back up the mountainside a few scales to meet with their newest entrant. Upon seeing her, the king thought that she very much looked like an entirely different wolf from when he'd first found her. She was filling in at a healthy pace, and would be ready to start contributing. Though, to be safe, the monarch had wanted to ask her to undergo any tasks just yet. It would only be bad for them all if she was pushed too far too soon and her recovery was lengthened thanks to it.



"Yes?" he sounded as his paws ate up the last few yards between them.

The king patiently awaited her words to complete themselves, noticing her nervousness but not entirely sure why it was present at all. He couldn't know of her previous pack's unwritten laws, nor her expectations of him to hold the etiquette true. He could only listen, and smile as the proposition impressed him as to just how in sync with the pack's needs she was proving to be.




"Excellent," he remarked. Her lack of experience guaranteed that this would not be a one time venture, but the patriarch did not mind spending the necessary time with her when it was such a clear benefit to the pack.



"I take it you are prepared to have your first lesson now?" he inquired, completely content himself to engage in a session here and now. " I was going to allow you more time to recover, honestly, but I'm glad that you've taken this initiative. Just remember, if you push yourself too hard you won't be helping anyone. I need you to communicate with me and tell me when you've had enough, alright?"



He hadn't the time yet to learn her personality, and therefor Gent didn't know if this was a woman who pushed her limits and didn't know when to leave well enough alone or not. Until she proved to be skilled at proper moderation, he would have to closely monitor her condition himself. Still, if she claimed to be ready, he would be glad to get in as much sparring time as possible.

She still hadn't shaken her insecure demeanor, and it was certainly something different for Gent to have to deal with. He felt certain that she should be growing more comfortable here by now, though the king was unable to acknowledge that his expectations were far too high. While he had valued her story, he could not fully comprehend much less empathize with the toll it had taken on the girl. As it was, he hoped that this lesson would give them both a bit to be surprised about, and Calanthe something to be confident in.




He did not vocally respond, instead opting to nod once before his body shifted, settling into a battle ready posture. His memories turned toward the session he'd had with Raela, how his tactics had caught her off guard and confused her. Only proving to the king that it had been for the best. He was not raising up an army, not at this point; he merely wanted them to be able to defend themselves, and the enemies to be feared would not give them warning much less opportunity to compose themselves and plan their movements.



And so, much like he had done with his best friend, the monarch launched himself forward with suddenness. Jaws spread, he reared up at the last moment to bring his forelimbs down upon her shoulders. There was no indication of what he expected from her, for it was only after he saw how she reacted that he would be able to correct the girl.

Gent hadn't been expecting much from the woman, if the honest truth was to be told. Not only was she still frail from her time alone, but her stature and demeanor spoke nothing of physical skill when it came to an arena, even if only for self defense. Indeed, he didn't know anything of what her time had been spent practicing and learning in her home and for all he knew she had never needed to so much as bare her fangs to another wolf before. Still, through all of the mounting evidence, he had expected some kind of resistance when bearing down upon her.




When his legs connected with her shoulders and the give of her body was immediate, he shifted his momentum the best he could to lessen the blow and not harm her with his forceful weight. Harming Calanthe in any capacity was the last thing he wanted to come from this scuffle, and it crossed his mind that perhaps she was not at all ready for such a lesson. Yet just as he might act upon this thought, life returned to her and she began to wriggle her way out of his hold. Surprised by this sudden gusto, the king's relaxed grasp was relatively easy to pull out of.



Part of him expected her to continue the backpedaling until she was far from his reach, but the rest of him was prepared for retaliation, and he was pleased to see that she would take the later option. Her strikes were unskilled and easily dodged by the leviathan, and she ended up only taking herself out. Still, at least she was trying, and that fact alone reaffirmed with Gent that even if she needed some work, it had been an excellent choice to take her in.



"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that you would be dead by now, if that's what I wanted," he said, his voice solemn but not unkind. It was his perception that those who had not been raised to fight could only rightfully trigger the instincts needed and build their skillset by fully realizing just how vulnerable they truly were. It would be difficult to simulate a true life or death match for the girl, but they closer they could come to that mindset, the better.



"I don't want you to just fend me off, or to even pin me. I want you to make me sorry I ever fucked with you. I want you to try and kill me."



As he spoke, he began to sink down, rolling his shoulders and coiling his muscles as he prepared to strike again. This time, his attack was not silent. This time, his lips curled backward and a snarl clawed up his throat, tearing through the air as he threw himself forward. His intentions were the same, and he would not put his full weight into forcing her down, but he wanted her to think that he might. He wanted to get that adrenaline kicking full force.