Lesson Two: Trapping and Compassion
A day after our fun salad exercise, Eden threw a piece of scrap cloth at me while we were out in the forest.
"Why can't everything you throw at me be so light?" I grumbled. She scoffed.
"It's material for trap setting, you insolent child. You need to learn to catch small game. Wolves need meat, and if you're hurt you can test your luck with traps to avoid confronting bigger animals."
Glumly, I mimicked her as she set traps. I was hoping to get it over with, as Tilla had challenged me to some video games. Luckily for me it wasn't too hard.
"Good doggie. Now, putting it anywhere will do you about as much good as just sleeping with your mouth open. You've got to set them on commonly used trails and such." I glared at her as she messed with my nose. "Sniff out where they've been, my little bloodhound. Whatever you catch will be the only thing you eat tomorrow. Now, it smells of rain. I'm going back, so hurry up. I don't want the house to smell like wet dog."
She strutted back to the cabin, leaving me in the woods alone. With a sigh I looked in the bag of traps to be set and hoped I'd get at least one right. It started raining before I was done, so had to get drenched before heading back to the cabin. Since I smelt, Eden made sleep outside in the rain.
The next morning, we went to all of my traps: nothing. As we were heading to the last trap, I wasn't very encouraged that there would be anything there. I was just about to say that it was hopeless and I should just give up, when she raced ahead.
A chocolate-brown marten was struggling and shivering in the trap I had made. I could feel the colour run from my face as I looked, shocked at my mentor.
"You did this. If you had set your trap as a proper noose, it'd have died painlessly. Instead you've left the poor thing to die slowly from freezing." Eden snarled coldly. "End its misery. You're plenty strong enough. Snap its neck."
I couldn't kill it. I just couldn't. No matter how much pain it was in... I stepped back, away from responsibility."I-I can't do it!"
She told me what I already knew; I was responsible and it was hypocritical to of me to eat food others had killed and not kill things myself. I looked at the freezing animal again, as she told me to make it right.
"I can't kill it!" I cried out. Pleading for her and the marten's forgiveness with my eyes. I didn't get any sympathy from the vampyre; she snarled and punched me in the stomach, doubling me over.
"You coward! You've already killed it. You don't deserve the title of wolf; you're a fucking housepet!" She moved to kill the marten; I blocked her, despite the fact that she could easily have killed me too.
"Let me save it! Please!" I begged, sheilding the animal from her. She hissed, scratched my face, and ran away.
I picked up the animal and trap, untangling it. I kept telling it to calm down; it didn't. On the way back to the cabin, I received several scratches.
Lesson Three: First Aid
"Tilla," I panted, showing the kinder woman the animal, "can you help it?"
She looked it over, narrating what was happening and quizzing me. "Just entering severe hypothermia. What should we do?"
I groaned inwardly. I knew nothing about first aid; I could barely put on a Band-Aid. "Put it in front of the fire?"
She shook her head, a buzzer sounded in my head as I frowned. "No. Warm anyone up that fast and they'll go into shock or have a heart failure. Torso to torso contact is the best way. Only thing is, you smell like a wolf. It may panic."
Her eyes rested on her mate, who did not look even remotely happy. "Ed~en! Can you help, pretty please?" She cooed to the other female, prancing over to where she was sitting. "It'll panic if you don't help!"
Eden glared at Tilla. "He directly disobeyed me! Not to mention he was a bloody coward about it!"
"Aw, but that's not the marten's fault! C'mon, all the things you've killed you can't stand to save one?" Tilla asked, tugging her arm gently; Eden followed despite her protest.
I was amazed to see Eden looking so calm, and almost kind. She cooed to the animal, keeping their eyes locked. The power in her words was incredible; I was shocked she didn't just use that on me when she was mad.
Eventually the marten allowed itself to be clutched to my chest, awkwardly, without trying to claw my skin to confetti. Tilla walked me through the rest of the steps to get it healthy again over the next few days.
Lesson Four: Responsibility
The marten I had condemned and then saved, was a lively female. I cared for her, not being awarded at first with anything but scratched while feeding her. When Tilla decided that it was healthy enough, we attempted to put her back in her natural habitat; but she apparently prefered our cabin since she snuck back in.
Tilla was fine with me making a pet of the animal; Eden wasn't as sure and openly voiced her concern. "This thing is not domestic." Neither was she. "Dadga may be a fox, but she's also Tilla's familiar: they share a special understanding. You're trying to keep a wild animal in a house. I won't oppose you, but if it crosses me I'll hurt it, if it gets in the way of your studies I'm kicking it out, and if it breaks anything you fix it."
I almost regretting taking the deal soon enough. She broke things, and tried breaking Tilla at least twice by tripping her. Eden, graciously, informed me her pent up energy would have normally been used for hunting.
Tilla's familiar tried to eat the marten frequently, receiving scoldings from even Tilla. Though this led to the marten jumping onto my shoulder for safety and frequently took. I grew fond of the small wild animal; I named her Gwin.
Lesson Five: Combat
I was shocked at first, when we were simply walking through the forest, uneventfully. I was shocked, until she spun and kicked my shin. I yelped and asked her what the hell she was doing; though, I could guess this was going to be another one her stupid lessons.
She smirked slightly, barking out more orders. "Shins are good for pain, but not for injury. You're fine: get up." She moved into what I assumed was a fighting stance. Not knowing what else to do, I mirrored her. She kicked the side of my thigh, dropping me to the ground.
Her head shook in disappointment. "No. I'm much smaller, weaker, and faster than you. I fight differently. You can't just mimic me." She directed me into a stance, different than hers that she called the "generic strong guy stance", and instructed me in a basic human-anatomy in correlation to fighting.
After that she explained that someone like her, small, was best suited for dodging; I was best to block attacks. She trained me for the next few hours of moonlight to block.
Lesson Six: Dodging
Eden had perched herself on a branch next to her cat. "You also need to know how to dodge attacks."
I sighed. "Didn't you just say I should focus on blocking?:
"Now Pup, you disappoint me. Can you block a blade with your bare hands? How about a bullet?"
"My name isn't Pup, it's—" I began. An acorn hit my shoulder, distracting me. When I looked back up at her, the crazy fledgling was tossing a sharp rock into the air with a grin on her face. I gulped.
She made a point of telling me that her eyes would give away where she was aiming. I ignored her the first time, assuming she was going to aim for my head. The rock was sent flying toward my thigh; I cursed in pain.
"Maybe the bruise will remind you not to assume. My eyes, genius." She pointed to her eyes and flung a stick toward me.
At some point I had worked out following her eyes, and dodged most of her attacks that didn't involve her throwing large handfuls of things at me. I was still on guard when she turned over her sack and nothing fell out. She smiled at me as she hopped off the branch and informed her mewling cat to get down himself.
"Not too awful, Pup. You can now be assured that you won't die from small white girls throwing acorns at you." She smiled again and almost skipped back to the cabin.
That was an awfully specific circumstance, but I figured I wouldn't point it out to her; I didn't want her to throw something at me that I couldn't dodge or block. With a sigh, I followed her back, wondering all the way what hell I'd be in for the next day.