Late morning. Patchy snow.
38*F, 7*C
It was time for a slight shift in gears. Everyone knew it, and Jynx Dirol was no exception. With her Leaders expecting their very first litter, the newly formed pack would need extra protection, come time when the cubs were born. Moraxia had already been injured by the Grizzly bear they had driven away, when claiming their home. And the intruding boar had been a different kind of threat altogether, but was still no less dangerous. Jynx had been well informed of the requirement, that training in the art of mock fighting, was a must, when she had joined Round Stone Crest. If she was to succeed in becoming a hunter, then she had to acquire the skills to appropriately defend herself against prey that would fight back. And, other wolves that the pack would perceive as a threat, which sooner or later, would happen.
The young russet female had never really given any considerable thought to the art of fighting and self defense. By sheer luck, she had so far, had no need to resort to violence or physical force. But it was only a matter of time until that luck would run out, and she did not want to be caught un-prepared. As she stretched, upright off the ground, fore paws raking against the bark of one of the hundreds of trees, her nose crinkled at a thought. Why hadn't her adoptive father and mentor, ever taken the time to teach her? Maybe he had been too old, or too concerned as her survival as a pup, to give it much thought. As she dropped back down, leaving her scent mark deeply etched into the bark of the tree, she shook the thought away. She would never see her teacher again, and there was no winding back time. Instead, she had a just as good, perhaps even better tutor, right here at home.As she trailed through the thickly spaced fir trees, the heavy white snow that poured down from the sky was a reminder that winter was not over yet. Casting a bland look to the clouds, she prayed that this would be the last snowfall of the season. She wanted to see the land come alive again, full of the greens of life. Her spine and crown dotted with a thin dusting of snow, she made a pass by the communal den, only to find it empty. She moved on for a little bit longer, back into the deep trees. Figuring that she was far enough away not to cause any commotion should a spar ensue, she lifted her head and let out a short, single note for one wolf only. It was time to train.