Lesson One: Fight Back! [Candidate Lesson!]

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As always, Ts'kal was plenty excited about lesson day. His class was smaller now - just six people! - but he didn't miss the much larger old class. Why? Because they were winglets now! They had to be a lot happier now that they had simourvs of their very own. And besides, some of them had hated his guts anyway. Still, being only moderately bothered by this, the candidatemaster was happy to fling himself out of bed, race down the hall to have a bath (as every morning), and then return. Today's clothes were a little different than usual: he didn't wear his riding gear, or his comfortable casual clothes.

Today, Ts'kal piled on leather armour. It was thicker stuff than his riding gear, even - built to absorb shock and transmit as little impact as possible to his body, he decided that it was proper for the occasion. Lessons were often active, or at least they had been with his former class, but the class this morning promised to be especially eventful. Fun, though, the rainbowrider decided, and turned to his bonded, who had woken up and was now watching him, chirping. Grinning, Ts'kal swept into a low bow, then flung his arms out to either side and cocked his head slightly. "Whaddya think, Aburo? Suitably stylish yet protective for the day?" he inquired teasingly. His simourv snorted playfully and reached over, shoving his rider back onto the bed before hopping out to the ledge of their eyling. Yup yup, Mine! Let's show it off to the candidates!

Heartily agreeing with that idea, Ts'kal laughed and bent to scoop up the half-dozen padded vests lying on the floor, ones he'd had made for this lesson. There were a couple of extras, too, just in case they got destroyed (or a new candidate or two had appeared). Prepared now, the candidatemaster seized a handful of his simourv's vibrant neck feathers and swung himself up onto Aburoqaph's back. Without waiting for any kind of a signal, the rainbow blared a loud and annoying warning into all six of the candidates' heads: Candidates! Lesson time! Up, up, up, or Ts'kal will eat you for breakfast! The last portion of this was shared with Ts'kal, and the candidatemaster smacked his simourv's shoulder in reprimand. "I won't eat them!" he protested, and then, deliberately tuning out his bonded's chirruping explanations, swung himself onto the ground in front of the candidates' barracks. While they flew, his simourv had commanded the new class to assemble in the front hall, and when the candidatemaster appeared there, most of them were present. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, and then made his way to the front of the hall. Here, laden with the padded vests, he set them out on the floor in a straight line, with the larger sizes at one end and the smaller ones at the other. Most, of course, were medium size.

That done, the candidatemaster stepped back and, shaking his hair out of his eyes, spoke. "Good morning, candidates," he began, nodding slightly at each one of them, "as you've been informed by my Aburoqaph, today is a lesson day. I do hope you're all awake and well rested, because you'll need to be alert." Pausing for a moment to let that sink in, Ts'kal studied each candidate's face in turn, then went on. "You may or may not have heard about candidate lessons from the new winglets, but if you have, you may know their lesson path. It will be the same for you - which, I'm sure, will aggravate those of you who have already experienced these lessons. As such, today's class is about learning self-defense. I don't doubt that a couple of you, perhaps, might know a little bit about fighting or defending yourselves. That's good, but I'm here to teach you more. For starters," he nodded at the vests on the floor, "you'll need to wear these vests. We will be sparring today, and I don't want any of you getting seriously injured, though bumps and bruises are guaranteed. Now, if all of you will take a vest and then line up in front of me, so I can see you all, we can begin the lesson." Gesturing with his hand as if to tell them to go to it, Ts'kal stepped back and let each candidate take a vest. Most of them were unlikely to fit perfectly, but the point was protection, not aesthetics.

As soon as all of the candidates had taken vests and lined up again, Ts'kal launched into a new explanation. This one was, fortunately, shorter than the other. "All right, candidates. The basis of self defense is, of course, to defend yourself if someone attacks you. One of your options is to run away - if you aren't a great fighter, I recommend that - but it's not what I'm here to teach you. The other is to stay and fight, either offensively or defensively. I'm here to teach you about fighting defensively. Every attacker is going to anticipate you kicking them in the groin or poking them in the eyes, so don't try that unless you know you can get away with it. You have to learn to surprise them, and also block their attacks. If I can get a volunteer," he cast a significant glance over the row of students, "I'll show you what I mean."

No one ever wanted to volunteer (except Olivia, he remembered with a suppressed grin), so the candidatemaster sat back for a few moments and let the candidates decide who was going to come up to the front. As soon as one did, he had the volunteer stand in front of him, and looked them straight in the eyes. "Now," he intoned, "I want you to attack me. Do it any way you like. I will counter your attacks and fend you off. Stop after a minute or two and I'll explain things more clearly. As soon as that's done," here he turned to the other candidates, "I want you to pair yourselves off, and practice blocking basic moves with your partners. I will come around and help you if you need it. Later I'll show you some specific ways to block attacks, and we can practice those as well." With that, he turned back to the volunteering candidate, and bent his knees slightly, clearly ready to counter the attacks that would be thrown at him.

[Kat]

The sun had barely risen! Why was Morgana being awoken? It was pointless for her to be here, before the sun rose. She believed that waking up early was pointless. What could be achieved in the morning which could not be achieved at night? She did not get up at first. Instead, she turned over in her bed and stuck the pillow over her head, laying her hands down on the sides of the pillow in an attempt to hide her ears. Of course, the mental call was not dampened by the pillow, as it was internal and inside her head, instead of outside and thus muffled by fabric and feathers. She moaned, the sound wailing from her lungs, and likely disturbing Amira if the girl had not left yet for the lesson. The sound, of course, as it was a mental sound, did not go away, so Morgana rolled out of bed, thudding at the foot of the bed in a pile of arms, legs, sheets, and purple velvet. She then rolled onto her feet, and stalked to a mirror hanging on the side of her wall. She looked ridiculous. Her hair was a tangled mess of yellow locks, all mussed into a nest of thin tendrils, and she wore her nightgown, a small slip of a dress, in yellow silk, which served to make her skin glow a light, golden color. But after slipping on a pair of brown sandals, Morgana decided she was decent enough to venture out to the lesson. She planned on going back to sleep as soon as she declined her attendance, and so she did not need to dress herself fully. Besides, if she showed up in her pajamas, her complete and utter distain for this situation would be very, very clear, and Morgana was a woman who believed in the power do a suggestive costume.

And even though Morgana did not even bother to get herself ready, she was still a few minutes late to the class. She had arrived just in time to watch Ts’kal choose a volunteer. Morgana felt sorry for the poor individual who had to spar for real. She was sure that she could wrestle down a partner who was not that into fighting. Morgana was not about to don one of the vests and actually practice hitting people. What was the use of that? She did not need to know how to defend herself. Her fists would do little good if she was attacked by a koxi, and her body or her words could weasel her out of any human altercation. She bent over, carefully turning her body to prevent exposing her undergarments to the other people, but instead of putting it on her body, she draped it across her arm. The other arm, Morgana raised, stretching her free hand high into the air until she pulled her tiny body onto her toes.
”Mr. Candidate Master, sir, do we really have to wear these vests. They are quite ugly, and I don’t like wearing a stranger’s clothing.”
Morgana did not care that she was late, and thus that her words were intruding into the instruction. She doubted that the vests were really that important. It was not as if anyone was going to beat her or throw her to the ground.

Morgana, then, brought her gaze up to look towards the other candidates. There were not many of them, especially since she seemed to have already learned that the last candidate class was quite large. She had met two winglets already, from her night in the kitchen, and Amira talked about the group as if it was well over ten people. There were six people crowded around Ts’kal, today, and Morgana had not heard of anyone else joining. But then, candidates were searched at any time. Even though the vest was draped across her arm, Morgana crossed her arms, her body sighing and huffing a breath from her lips. Morgana would ask Amira how many candidates were in the last class. She was curious about why this one was smaller. She hoped that the fact that she planned to leave before the hatching would not leave a simourv without a partner. What would happen to that simourv. Would it attack the people there? Even if she was not sure she liked the girl, Morgana would be upset if her departure incidentally harmed Amira. Of course, those were silly ideas. Morgana’s plan was flawless; she needed to stop thinking of holes. The girl watched T’kal, then, only because she had looked the other people attending over once, and she was worried that any longer would look creepy or awkward. She did not like the man; he had woken her up so early. She really wanted nothing to do with these lessons, a fact which she allowed to read across her body posture and facial expression. She looked positively apathetic. Today would be a long day.

[Kilnarak]

Bundled against the cold morning air in fur and leather, Mashiro had awakened with the dawn, and was already a short distance outside of the Eyrie's main gates when the rainbow simourv's call rebounded in his mind. He had intended to take Yukimori out for a run, and perhaps scare up some of the smaller game that made their homes near to the canyon-city. It wasn't to be, however, as that unfamiliar voice drew him away from his hunt - he turned back toward the Eyrie as he heard the call, holding still as a statue. He did consider, briefly, ignoring it and continuing about his previous plans - however, now that he had been chosen, he was obligated to see to whatever training they saw fit. Really, he still wasn't sure what to think of his new position - it wasn't something he would have planned for himself, and the obligations chafed a bit. But his uncle had thought it a good idea, and the man was the only kin he had here - aside from Yukimori, of course, but she didn't much care either way so long as she wasn't separated from her master.

"I suppose we will be late as is, mm? Well, you'll have to be a good girl," he smiled down at the dog, and reached down to scratch between her ears. Yukimori yipped, giving a wag of her tail - she didn't understand her master's words, of course, but she did understand the tone of it, which was pleasant enough. When he began to head back towards the Eyrie, toward the source of the call, the white hound followed at an easy jog at his side.

For all that he had said as much, the pale young man and his dog were among the first to arrive at the training grounds. "Good morning," he offered in polite greeting to their teacher, inclining his head - he didn't smile, however, his expression fairly serious. At his side, Yukimori took one look at the man and then promptly lost interest in him - instead she stared warily at the man's great rainbow monster. She had seen other simourv before, of course, and her master did not seem distressed by them; but still, they were so large, they could be a threat. The dog put her ears back, settling to sit beside her master as he lowered himself to a crouch - to wait for other candidates to arrive, and also to listen to their teacher.

Once Ts'kal began to speak, Mashiro's attention fixed solely upon him, intently listening. Self-defense wasn't a foreign concept to him - his training as a hunter had taught him how to fend off aggressive animals, and his uncle had made him spar on occasion. Still, he listened closely despite it - it was only polite, and this man was among his superiors here. When they were gestured toward the training vests, the pale boy paused and frowned at the garments - he was already dressed in hunting leathers, and the additional layer seemed like it would be overly bulky. "Is this necessary, sir?" he turned his pale gaze from the garments to their teacher - not insolent, but still questioning. If Ts'kal insisted, he would strap it on over his own attire.

Whether or not he was told to change into the sparring leathers, Mashiro would eventually resume his former spot - standing beside the seated Yukimori, not all too far from his flamboyant roommate. He waited, patiently, as Ts'kal called for volunteers; however, when none stepped forward, he did so himself. "Yuki, stay with him," he commanded down to his dog, nodding toward Embry - she understood stay at least - before he stepped forward toward the teacher.

As he squared off in front of the man, Mashiro inclined his head again, listening to the instructions before nodding once again. Yes, he could do that. He waited for Ts'kal to indicate he was to begin, before he moved to strike at the man - a simple enough punch, nothing too complicated and not aimed anywhere particularly damaging. After this was blocked, he followed it with a kick - trying to remember the dance of training his warrior uncle had taught him; mostly it came back easily, although it had been a good while since he had made use of any of it. Fighting off people was different from fighting off animals - and generally he would make use of weapons while he was hunting, rather than this barehanded fighting.

[Cy]

[/b]

The voice in his head stopped, but most likely because the commands had been finished rather than out of any sort of fear for the fussy exclamation. Still groggy, but more wakeful than before, Embry peered about the room to find his roommate’s dog gone. With a huff, he closed his eyes to untangle himself blindly from his comfy restraints and leave his bed. “Suck-up…” he cursed his roommate, barely managing to find the energy to pick out something suitable to wear in a pleasant shade of red and brown. Stumbling to the mirror, he forced his eyes open enough to check his appearance, leaning forward to begin tending to his hair as it stuck up in messy disarray. He groaned. “I’m so disguuusting… Ugh, I don’t even care.” He continued to fuss, waving his hands dismissively in the air before stomping his way out of his room, the laces of his shoes untied and skittering in every which direction as he made for the front hall.

Unphased by the familiar call of Aburoqaph, Amira had been quick out of bed. She’d dressed in the usual plain attire that she’d worn to lessons before, a simple pale tunic and trousers suitable for getting dirty. Lessons so often seemed to consist of them getting dirty in some shape or form. Slipping out of the room in time to escape the loud protest offered by her extravagant roommate, she made her way to the front hall with a quick stride and a straight back. She was ready for today and, though she was disappointed to have to take these lessons over again, she was prepared and one could never do poorly with preparation. She’d do her best all the same. Set towards the front of the class, poised and ever eager to please, she listened attentively. Occasionally, she turned her head to look to latecomers, keeping her judgments tucked away in the back of her head – after all, she couldn’t fault them for late arrival. She was used to all of this and she could recall being late on her first lesson too – and her eyes widened considerably at the nightwear that her roommate finally arrived in. A flush filled her pale cheeks as she swiftly looked away, back to the candidate master, and she couldn’t stop the vague smile that pulled at thin lips.

Embry only raised his eyebrows at his friend and cursed that he’d not been the one to think of such a bold move! Early mornings did not do well for creative or suggestive thought. Though, her hair… His criticisms were cut off by more commands from the teacher and they were all directed towards the line of vests situated upon the ground and he sluggishly made his way over, nose wrinkling with distaste at the sight of the things they were apparently expected to wear. Um, ew? Picking one up, it was heavy and unsightly, and he looked to Morgana as she questioned the teacher with, more or less, exactly what had been on his mind. And shortly after that, his roommate piped up, which sort of surprised him. The bulky garb that the man wore soared over his notice and so the practicality of Mashiro’s own inquiry did the same. The albino just really didn’t seem the sort of care about ugly things. Glancing between the two that had piped up, he looked back to the teacher and gestured to Morgana, deciding that he needed to fit in as well. “I’m with her, these are totally ugly.” He didn’t mind the clothes of strangers at all.

At the sidelines, Amira grabbed up a smaller vest and slipped it on without fuss, moving to squeeze herself back into line. Once the issue of the others was dealt with, Embry was reluctantly standing in line as well, lips curled into a disgusted sneer as he fumbled with the clasps of his vest to tighten it. It would only go so far though and it hung awkward from his frame. There’d been nothing smaller though! With another frustrated huff, he tried to cross his arms petulantly over his chest, an action that seemed even more childish due to the complications offered by the oversized vest. His eyes widened and snapped over to his roommate as the older man spoke to his dog, commanding it to stay with him? A hand shot up to his chest as if to ask if the man was serious but he was already off to fight and the boy was left to look around to make sure no one had caught on that the strange-looking man seemed to be connected to him in some way. He didn’t notice anything though and his gaze was dropping down to the dog. As if sensing his stare, the creature looked back up to him and Embry was soon shaking his head, whispering under his breath to the thing. “If you run, I am not stoppin’ you.” He warned, effectively disregarding any responsibility over the beast as he crossed his arms with another ‘hmph’ and returned his gaze to the sparring pair.[/ul][/size]