Ever since their hunt, Orren Baranski had been going back and forth on his opinion of the strange phenomenon that was Kjors. Hunting together with the older male had shown to be both exciting and rewarding, Kjors in the end admitting that here was something Orren did better than his brother; Which, though he had pretended to ignore, actually meant the world to the youngest River prince. Still, he didn't quite know what to think of this murky wolf who seemed to be mostly a recluse, yet had drawn the full attention of his gentle and shy sister. Ever since Kjors arrival in the Hearthwood River pack, Karina had grown more and more detached from her family, choosing instead to spend her time with this dark stranger, seeming to revere him as some sort of prophet, Or who knows what! And this made her brother both jealous and suspicious.

He had no idea what to do about it though, he didn't exactly have the word in his power, and mostly when he did try to talk to his oldest sister, it ended up in arguments. Instead, the best course of action seemed to be getting to know this home wrecker more closely, finding out exactly what about him was so fascinating to Karina, and whether it posed a threat to the Baranski family. That was no easy feat either though; Orren was no spy, no wall flower capable of studying and learning in silence. In order to know the one eyed wolf he needed to actually talk to him, build a relationship with him, and in order to do that, he needed to find him. but, as mentioned, Kjors was no social man, in fact he seemed to enjoy his solitude, and his privacy, and while getting to the bottom of this whole situation was important to the young adventurer, he could not spend all his time looking around, hoping to get a glimpse of the bistre chap, and maybe exchange a few words, he had other things to do; Like hunting!

And hunt he continued to do, morning, evening, dusk dawn, among the trees or out in the open, the aspiring hunter followed tracks, traced scents, kept watch of larger herds and took down smaller critters on his own, filling the caches and often bringing special treats to his mother, @Inna and @Lekalta. This was hard work, and a long day of hunting often left the lad exhausted, collapsing in the communal den in the evening and sleeping long into the morning. Orren had never been an early riser, and in these summer days, he especially enjoyed sleeping in, taking advantage of the coolness of the mornings to catch up on some, much needed rest. And this day was no exception, in fact, he could have easily slept a few hours longer, had a rough, yet not unfriendly, voice not broken into his dreams. Persimmon eyes flicking open, a low grunt escaped the boy before he lifted his head, shaking it thoroughly to clear the fog of sleep. Had it been someone else searching for him, he might have simply gone back to sleep, pretending to never even have heard the call. But he couldn't exactly pass up this opportunity; How often does HE come looking for ME?! So he got up, stretching himself as much as possible in the cramped space and then quickly wiggled his way out of the den.

The bright sunlight made him blink, pausing as soon as his tail was free of the burrow, to adjust to the light. Finally, a lanky, brown silhouette appeared before his eyes, and Orren smiled at him, waving his tail affably. "Kjors?" He said, yawning widely; "What'a'ya need?" With a less than graceful thump, the yearling planted his sizable rear on the dirt, lifting a leg to lazily scratch himself behind the ear. No one had ever accused the lad of being elegant, and they certainly weren't gonna start now.

The last stray strands of sleep still hung around him, making the world slightly blurred, sounds and smells dulled as if coming from far away. The feeling was not unpleasant though, and the boy smacked his lips contently while slowly blinking the last haze from his vision. He managed to see Kjors' slight nod and, more importantly, hear his cordial greeting, which made the smile widen into a full blown grin. It wasn't often others chose to remind Orren of his lineage, mostly he suspected because they were either of that same blood or just didn't put much weight on it, choosing instead to see him as the yearling whom they had known since birth. But Kjors fit neither of these groups, and while that left the River prince especially wary of him, as a stranger, it also put him in a unique position, suddenly someone looked at the boisterous lad as more than a kid, seeing him in his entirety rather than focusing on flaws and shortcomings. In short, it was hard for Orren to dislike the one eyed dragon, but there was also something, evasive and impossible to put into words, but something, unsettling him in regards to the older man.

Today though, he was well rested, his mood was good and attention, as most often, was on the concrete rather than any subconscious, fishy feelings. Tail thumping happily against the ground, Orren nodded back, returning the older male's greeting while he took a seat across from him; "And mornin' to you!" There was even a smile on Kjors face, nowhere near as wide as the yearling's broad grin, but for the usually standoffish brute, even this small grimace was a lot. He then proceeded to explain that he had come for company, making Orren's eyes widen quite a bit; He's here to CHAT?! The boy tilted his head slightly, smile fading in his surprise and ears waving questioningly. He wasn't exactly sure he could make for particularly good company, though he usually had no problem running his mouth, he wouldn't know the first thing to talk with the man about. Persimmon eyes sought the singular golden one in a moment of helpless panic, then he saw; Is that... Is he JOKING?! There certainly was humor in the aging chap's sharp gaze.

Then he spoke again, and Orren released a light breath in relief. Kjors hadn't come for idle chatter, as always, he had a plan. He did definitely seem to be in a talkative mood though, not only commenting about the day and posing his offer, but revealing a bit about his classes with Karina as well; Defend herself?! The gentle healer seemed about the last member of the pack interested in fight training; She doesn't even like hunting! Weird as she was. How had the mysterious stranger managed to talk her into that; And why?! Orren's brain was abuzz with questions, but his body also tinkled with excitement, a bright light in his eyes at the prospect of a brawl; He agreed that it would be fun. It had been many months since he and Aleksei had last squabbled, rather in argument or for fun, the boy couldn't even remember any more, and since then no one had ever offered something like this to him. Even a playful tumble would have been eagerly welcomed by the lad, and the proposal of actual battle training was enough to push all other broodings to the back of his mind. Just looking at Kjors, there was no doubt he had lots of experience to share from.

The yearling jumped to his feet, restraining himself from nodding vigorously. The smile was back on his face in full force, and his eyes were practically shining as he looked at the adult. "Yes!" He breathed, swallowing something as he bobbed his head; "I mean, I can defend myself alright, but I'd like to learn more. Ya' think ya' can teach me some tricks?" He grinned now, consumed by the idea of spending another day with the dragon, during something he loved.

The boy's excitement only grew when he saw it mirrored in the opposer, or opponent, 's single eye. He rolled his shoulders, bending down a little to stretch out his front legs, and waved his tail high in the air, all while watching Kjors making his own preparations. When they were young, Orren and Aleksei had often brawled, rolling around and tugging on each other's ears, the way pups do, but as they grew older and grew apart, those friendly fights became less frequent. Being the first born, destined, and eager, to follow in his father's footsteps, Alek had trained in the ways of the guardian, sparring with @Maksim on several occasions. Orren had never been that lucky. - Of course that was just as much, if not more, the audacious younger prince's own fault, while his brother had acted their father's shadow, he had been busy adventuring, exploring or hunting. But blaming everyone else was always easier. Regardless, the lively Baranski was more than enthusiastic about this opportunity to prove himself.

So when the murky dragon declared himself ready, asking Orren to show what he could do, the bulky yearling was not late to act. The boy lunged forwards, figuring that his bigger size and weight would be his forte, while lack of speed his biggest weakness; These were concepts easily transferred from the art of hunting, and really, fighting wasn't much different. Teeth baring in a gleeful snarl, the large yearling threw himself towards the lankier foe, pushing aside his immediate impulse to go for the jugular - There's one difference - in favor of thrusting his shoulder into the older man's, trying to knock him off balance. Once he was down, it should be easy enough to keep him there; I'll show you what I've got!

The trouble was of course, that Kjors was already expecting the attack, having been the one to ask for it. No amount of confidence would change the fact that Orren's burly build slowed him down, and while a hit would have likely knocked his opponent down, his advance met only air. Another unfortunate consequence of his weight was the momentum he build, while he noticed as soon as the bistre male evaded his attack, there was no stopping the motion he had already started. Flying past the older wolf, Orren dug his paws into the dirt, grinding his teeth as he tried to slow back down. The pinch of his leg made him bite down harder, a definite sting left behind by the more experienced wolf's teeth.

The yearling spun around, suppressing a wince as he looked back at his teacher, feeling sore from more than just the scratch to his hock. Still, he managed a breathy chuckle, nodding as Kjors offered a few pointers; If you say so... It was occurring to the young hunter that the biggest difference between this and his chosen trade was that the target wasn't running away. In a fight, the goal of both participants was to overpower the other, not to escape. But what could he do then? When he was battling someone who was - while not necessarily smarter than prey - uniquely able to evaluate his movements and counter based on his weaknesses.

It was so much more frustrating because he knew that if first he managed to catch the one eyed dragon, the advantage would definitely be on his side. And while his size made him less nimble, he was not at all slow, he had chased down fast prey, even with a head start. But Kjors would not be fleeing blindly once the Baranski bared his teeth; So what is the answer? Shaking his head, a small huff of aggravation escaped the boy as he started moving again, slowly beginning to circle the older man. Had it been a pack hunting a quick target, they could have taken turns, tiring him out, but with one on one, Orren saw no other options; I need to get in close!

Trying to move quickly and without revealing himself beforehand, the rust and charcoal lad threw himself at Kjors again, using his teeth this time to snap at his flank. Already he felt certain he would not connect, knowing that the smaller wolf would never allow him to come in close. Snapping jaws around thing air, he growled his agitation, glaring up at the teacher with a eyes lacking a lot of the humor from earlier; "Don't s'pose you're gonna agree to wrestle?"