Up the Ante {s/o}
Jan 18, 2015 0:16:57 GMT -5
Post by Paradox on Jan 18, 2015 0:16:57 GMT -5
The female Leonberger stood still, the courtyard empty and open in front of her. Just a bleak, blank expanse of land, with almost nothing covering the dirt, spare the few small trees and sparse shrubbery that dotted the landscape. Sure there weren't very many canines milling around, yet, but the place did have a peculiar home-y feel to it. Unfortunately, Layla couldn't let that sink in, rather getting right into the mindset of her task at ha- paw. She didn't have hands, let alone tasks to put on them. Anyways, she continued toward the far corner of the courtyard. The area where the two fences met, which was somewhat out of sight, in the shadow of another building. Layla wasn't attempting to do anything that was prohibited within the pack, just maybe something that would be looked down upon by the way she did it. And really, it was a legitimate practice, and there should be no hatred toward her actions. What was she going to do? Layla had resolved that the only way to ease her pent up stress and angst from the spar and the entire day was to go be by herself, and...practice.
Layla wanted to practice, using the critique and feedback the Commandant had given her during the spar. She found a smallish tree, and set herself a few paces away from it, squaring her feet and shoulders to face the foliage. In her mind, she replayed everything that went down in the spar. Images raced through her mind, images of the first moments of the spar, staring down Kyrie, staring longingly at Tzafar, a pillar of grace, fatality, and general . She should have been focusing more on Kyrie, more on her body shape, more on how to not just injure her, but kill her.
For sometimes turning down the intensity of attacks is easier than upping the ante, and trying to become more intense. Maybe she just needed to get more intense. Get out of this domesticated, tame mindset that she had put herself in ever since moving into the Armory, and being surrounded by the fort before her. She had gone somewhat soft, not been on her toes with her guard up. But now, Layla forced herself into hypersensitivity, awareness, and a mental state that not only brought adrenaline, but also a little bit of Nostalgia. She hadn't had to be on her toes as much ever since... not even before moving to the Armory, further back still. Maybe when she had just started out in the woods, alone, untrained and undisciplined, always having to watch out for predators. She was still small, fresh off of the farm, and had to give her all in battle just to stay alive. She had to discipline herself, train herself to become more lethal, more of a threat. But all of that had gone to boot when she had become a formidable opponent to the predators that lurked. All of the disciplining she'd done had gone lax, she grew lazier from being able to make her way in the world. She needed desperately to bring herself back to the state of mind she had put herself in that first month in the Forest. She had to take the advice Tzafar had given her, and use it to discipline herself.
She allowed the comments Tzafar had given her to be replayed in her mind, so she could find clearer meaning."Layla. It is clear that you know how to use your weight. But don’t be afraid to take it farther; make it dangerous for anyone to come close to you."
Layla started running at the tree. She did know how to use her weight, she knew how to shift it to allow more mobility or more power. She knew that for optimum power, to shift her weight back before hitting the tree, and then forward on impact. She knew that having her forelegs be unencumbered was essential for when her body hit the base of the tree. She knew that she would shift her weight forward within a split second of impact, because she knew that the tree would hold some rigidity and resistance, and that by shifting weight only after impact, she could use the resisting force along with her own. That was how she became dangerous.
She charged straight at the tree, making the weight shift. Unfortunately, the tree did not budge, only shedding but a few leaves from this encounter. The Leonberger lifted her head, seemingly unfazed by the impact, and slowly and methodically backed up, taking long, backward strides until she was slightly closer than where she had first charged."Kyrie landed several blows. You need to make every attempt of hers a gambit, make her wonder if she is going to succeed. Your opponent should always feel threatened by your ability to subdue them with your weight; you must make it clear that you are able.”
Layla lowered her stance, getting ready to run, and muttered under her breath.
" I am able. I am."
Now, Layla wasn't a sore loser, and she was only doing her practice this way because she felt that she was looking as if she had pent up anger, or had jealousy of Kyrie, when really it was quite the Contrary. Layla respected Kyrie as an equal, a fellow member in the pack She did not have any holds barred, any jealousy towards her. In other words, she wasn't taking out anger on the Czech Wolfhound, she was taking it out on herself, through the vessel of the tree.
She charged at the tree again, faster and harder than before, hearing a slight rumbling noise coming from it as her body collided with it. She wasn't racing at a brick wall, and had technique to her charges. The tree was long and lanky, cylindrical, and had a knot and a few limbs that were accessible to a dog Layla's height. She treated them like the limbs of a dog, driving her force upward at what would have been the chest area, had it been an actual dog. She backed up, ready almost instantaneously to charge once again.
Layla took a deep breath, and began sprinting and bounding at the tree, now a little shaken up at the roots, harder than she'd ever done up until this point. She'd raised the bar for intensity, and had tears streaming down her cheeks as she ran, because she knew that she could do better, was capable of better, if only she practiced. Over and over again, she wouldn't allow herself even a bit of rest, until she felt that she was better than when she started. A nap in the Armory could certainly wait, honing her skills, however, could not. She would furlough sleep, to show commitment to bettering herself. Unfortunately, she was tired from the spar, her endurance giving out slowly, and by the time she had heard the crack of the tree's trunk as it began to fall over, the waves of exhaustion passed over her, and she fell down on top of the tree, struggling to get up again."speech"
This Thread is open to all TEMPEST members,
but will become a closed thread if and when Tzafar joins in. Yay c: