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"It takes patience. Control. Self-discipline. Practice. Not a single thing out of place. Like a piece of music. Only if you get it wrong, the consequences are much more dire."

He had heard words like it thousands of times before, each time in his teacher's almost maddeningly serene voice. A grin momentarily tugged at one corner of his mouth as a stray thought crossed his mind. I wonder this would warrant some sign of emotion from the old man? No time to worry about it now. All of those words were going to be thrown out the window. He could only hope it'd be worth it.

***

The morning sun shone down from a clear sky to mingle with the leaves overhead. Occasionally, a beam would lance through a gap to light the ground below. Such places looked wondrous and nearly divine. It was just like the fox to use it as another weapon.

As Marcus approached, Nathaniel brought his blade up in an elegant motion, angling the glare perfectly into Marcus' eyes. Marcus squinted and lashed out where his opponent once stood, but the fox was already beside him, sword at his throat.

"Again."

Marcus gritted his teeth and swung, the clash of steel once again breaking the forest's stillness. His frustration mounted with each parried blow. He was a good swordsman, he knew he was, dammit, but Nathaniel, with a seemingly effortless grace, deflected his blade or simply moved aside with nearly supernatural speed. Nathaniel moved in close, knocking both Marcus and his blade off balance. Despite Marcus' best efforts, he couldn't regain the initiative, and finally Nathaniel's foot sent him sprawling to the ground, blade once more at his undefended throat.

"Good. But you can do better. You let your emotions get the better of you."

It took Marcus a moment to realise his teacher's blade was sheathed and no longer at his throat. He bit back his grumbles as he got to his feet and stowed his own blade away, feeling like a clumsy oaf next to Nathaniel. He had half-considered taking the opportunity to swing at Nathaniel's back, but past experience taught him that nothing he could do could catch the fox off guard.

They sat together at a table, Nathaniel pouring himself tea. Marcus probably imagined the distaste on Nathaniel's face as he served himself coffee. If nothing else could perturb Nathaniel, he doubted his drink selection could. If anything, it just highlighted the differences between them further.

The fox stood five and a half feet high, and Marcus knew his slim frame was solid muscle, even though he was in his early fifties. Red fur became white under his chin to his stomach and turned black before his hands and feet. His simple shirt and trousers betrayed none of the exertion from the morning's exercises, and his movements were fluid and unhurried as he raised his cup to his lips. His expression was as calm as ever, a fact which only served to raise Marcus' ire. Still, he knew it wouldn't change. He had watched Nathaniel as he ate, treated wounded, and fought bandits who screamed insults, and not once had Marcus ever seen any other expression on Nathaniel's face.

Marcus, on the other hand, was a falcon, and despite standing at five foot eight, he still felt overshadowed by the fox in front of him. At twenty-eight years old, he was bulkier and stronger than the fox, but he had never won in one of their sparring matches, and his clothes were stained with grass, dirt, and sweat. He was still trying to get his breath back as he drank his coffee. His brown feathers looked ruffled, he knew, and his features would betray fatigue and annoyance instead of calm. He wondered once more how exactly he ended up with Nathaniel. It still never made sense to him.

"Master," Marcus began before noticing Nathaniel's glance. "Teacher," he corrected himself. "When--"

"When you are ready."

Marcus fought to keep his voice level. "Can you tell me when precisely that will be?"

"That is entirely up to you."

"But--"

"No." The fox shook his head. "The art is difficult and unforgiving. You must be able to show control, regardless of your surroundings. When you can find peace within, you will be ready."

"All we do are the same drills, the same meditations, the same fights, day after day." Marcus' beak was firmly clenched shut.

"Training the body will help train your mind. And it is better to not rely entirely on the art, as some do. You show progress. Otherwise, I would not continue trying to train you. But there is something in you that you cannot let go of. Until you do, we will continue like this. You must have patience. Discipline. Self-control. Otherwise, the art will consume you and all those around you.

"Wash. Change your clothes. It will help. Then, meditate. Relax your mind. It will come. You just need patience."

Marcus grimaced but got up to do as Nathaniel said. Arguing had never helped in the past. It would do no good to start again now.

***

Marcus felt calmer as he approached the cabin he shared with Nathaniel. He had enough practice with meditation since coming here that he could benefit from it even if it took a while. As he got closer, he heard voices inside. He softened his steps. It was unusual for them to have visitors, and he was intensely curious about what Nathaniel said when he wasn't around.

He quieted his breath, almost like he was meditating again as he listened by the door. He resisted the urge to close his eyes. Nathaniel had words about ignoring his surroundings in the past.

"And this is your choice, is it?" Marcus didn't recognise the voice. Female, probably not too much older than he was. The tone was almost carefully neutral, though it didn't match the serenity Nathaniel had.

"It is." Marcus once again silently cursed his teacher's lack of expression. He could be talking about his choice of tea or about destroying a continent, and Marcus would never be able to hear a difference in inflection. It made eavesdropping on him infuriating.

"I wish you luck. Something tells me you'll need it."

"It is not something I choose to rely on. And you?"

Marcus could hear her chuckle, whoever she was. "You know me well enough, I think."

A chair scraped against the ground inside, and Marcus moved as quickly as prudence would allow. He took cover behind some bushes as the door opened. Striding from the cabin was a wolf. She was taller than Marcus, though probably not by much, and just as heavily built. She wore leather armour and trousers over her grey fur, and a white flower was tucked behind her right ear. Her gaze swept across the forest as she left, and a small grin lit her face as she strode off. Marcus could see scars on her right arm as she left. What is she smiling about?

Nathaniel stood at the door, watching her go. While he looked the same as always, something about him seemed tired as he stood there. After she disappeared into the trees, Nathaniel looked straight at the bushes where Marcus hid. "Come in, Marcus. We need to talk."

Marcus stood sheepishly. It shouldn't really surprise him that Nathaniel knew he was there. He had never been able to surprise the old fox.

Curiosity quickly overrode embarrassment as he entered the cabin. What did they need to talk about? Did it have to do with the wolf who just left? Who was she? The questions tumbled through his head as he sat down across from his teacher. He looked on with some eagerness and confusion while Nathaniel stared back.

They stayed that way so long that the shadows noticeably changed outside. Finally, Nathaniel broke the silence.

"I will teach you the art."

Marcus started almost violently. He had asked not so long before, but even then, he hadn't truly expected Nathaniel to teach him.

"May I ask what changed your mind, teacher?"

"Unfortunately, time moves forward without regard for my wishes. It is time you learned."

"Does this have to do with the wolf?"

Did Marcus imagine a flicker of amusement in Nathaniel's eyes? "It seems that respect is something else I must still teach you. And the dignity not to hide amongst shrubs."

Marcus had nothing to say to that. He just hoped Nathaniel would answer his question.

"All of the art can be inscribed in a circle."

At that moment, the cabin exploded.