Meant to take place in Whisper Marsh!
The yearling took a defensive stance, his paws well placed underneath him and separated slightly to prepare for impact. He was well grounded, using his core to stay balanced. He grunted deep in his throat, giving one sharp nod. “Run at me, as hard as you can,” he ordered, his voice strong and unwavering. He wanted to get better at taking hits, and there was only one way to do that.
He needed to build a tolerance to being charged at. Ferreiran was a great equal, since he was around the same size. That would give Vaken the opportunity to learn, gain a resistance to being shoved. The cold air made it easier to handle the exertion of energy too.
“No holding back,” he called, digging his nails into the dirt. He was sure the wolf could knock him off balance-but that was okay. He would keep practising and eventually learn how to steady himself.