There are even chairs for those who wish to sit and view the training. I smile tenderly as I find a wooden chair with ‘Mama’ carved on it, it is the closest one to the centre of the room where the two males shall spar. I had my seat; Deimos is the most beloved with his thoughtfulness. No wonder he requested for me to come to watch.
“Kal.”
“Yes, papa?” The little one who is fumbling with all the distinct items halts to turn around and engage in his father’s call.
“Come stand on this mat in front of me.” He says the playfulness departing replaced by calmness as he regards his male. He is not a father now; he is a mentor.
The little one toddles to his father and stands in front of him peeping up at him from beneath his lashes. “What awe we doing, papa?”
“We are going to play a game. It is a game called ‘copycat’.” Deimos utters whilst stretching his limbs and hopping on the pads of his feet warming up his flesh.
“How I play?”
“All you need to do is follow my movements, Kal. Just imitate me. If you do so adequately I shall reward you with a treat, if you do not do it thoroughly no gelato tonight.” Deimos mutters initiating the training with a hint of a delicious promise whilst bending low and getting into a war stance.
“I can do it, papa.” Kal’s eyes gleam with determination, the promise of a treat fueling his vigour.
“Good. Now, feet apart the right placed ahead of the left. Bring your hands in front of your face, like this.” Deimos shows him and waits patiently for the little one to heed. It does take time for Kal to imprint his father’s position and mimic him but eventually, he ends up copying it well.
“Mama. See. See.” He grins wildly exaggeratedly puffing his chest showing me his pride in his accomplishment.
“I am watching, my male.” I chuckle with a shake of my head. He requires me to watch him do everything, like dancing, catching a butterfly or brushing his teeth on his own.
“Now try to hit me.”
“Hit papa?” He asks worriedly as Deimos clutches his petite fists and settles them against his belly.
“Yes hit me here as strong as you can.”
“I-I don’t want to. Is wong. Papa pain.” He murmurs feebly taking a firm step backwards with a shake of his head. He finds it to be sinful, his idea of ethics amuses me but it is also undeniably cute to witness.
“No, I won’t get injured, little one. We are merely playing a game.” Deimos urges Kal to follow along whilst placing his large palms upon his knees bending low meeting eye to eye with the pup yet he does not budge an inch staying strong to his words.
“No.” He is stubborn as always. Like father, like son. Deimos sighs whilst he rises to reach my eyes offering me a sharp wink bestowing to me his cunning plan to stimulate the pup to abide.
“Lumina, we still possess Kal’s favourite chocolate ice cream in the freezer yes? Since he is being defiant we shall give his treat to Ragon instead.”
Our male’s orbs widen to his father’s statement as he sways his head in denial of the truth that settles in. “No, Uncle Agon always eat my ice ceam. It is mine!” He whines pulling on the rim of Deimos’s shirt vigorously depicting his rage. It is true, Ragon does purposely steal his treats from our fridge while Kal is watching just to tease him and then he would dart around the field with an irritated three-year-old hot on his heels.
“Then you do as I say, do you understand?” Kal nods staying in position eyes peering down at his feet. “I need words.”
“Yes, papa.” He grumbles lowering his head covering how upset he is to assault his father whom he adores a lot.
“Now hit me, right here. Or I shall permit Ragon to steal your cone.” Deimos threatens playfully positioning himself into another posture adapting to take his hit.
Kal raises his fist punching his father in the spot directed to him, and Deimos shakes his head in dissatisfaction. “Harder.” He yells as the little one recoils to the loudness of his father’s voice and attempts another hit.
“Come on Kal, use your strength.” I urge him from the side softly easing his fur that is ruffled to his father’s coaching.
Our pup takes a few steps backwards and flings another strike towards his father’s belly. This time Deimos dodges his advance to skid to the other side and startle Kal by pushing him mildly from the back.
He loses his balance and stumbles to the ground, his knees breaking his descent. I gaze away, I cannot support him. I mustn’t.
“Get up, Kal.” There is a deep-rooted seriousness in Deimos’s voice he isn’t playing games. A command he gives way to his male, his training has merely begun.
Our male struggles to stand amid his blurry eyes that hold his heavy tears and his quivering lips that wish to let out his0 wails. “Papa.” He calls his father with upsetness, knees bleeding he does not like this but his father stands his ground not making a move to console him.
“When you are challenging other wolves, you must be aware of their next direction in which they shall attack you. Just like I did, I forced you to the ground from behind yes?” Deimos teaches leisurely circling the little one as a predator would to its prey.
However only silence greets him as the Kal strives to get back on his feet peering up at his father with new eyes. Betrayal. Deimos swallows harshly gritting his teeth to the uncomfortableness but he remains steadfast. “Do you understand or not? Get up this instant.”
Kal begins to sob now to his father’s scolding, this is the very first time he has been harsh with him. He has always been the ‘good’ parent. Whilst Kal holds still on his two feet, Deimos impels him once more as he shrieks in terror and tumbles to the ground.
“Deimos.” I gasp springing to stand now, my chest heaving my wolf pacing she is agitated. She thinks our male is being put in harm’s way.
“When wolves drive you to the ground, you get back up and confront them. You fight them with every bit of strength you possess in your bones even if you are drowning in fear, even if you are weak and vulnerable. Your duty is to always protect for that is what it means to be an Alpha.” Deimos sets forth his lesson arms folded across his chest he stares down at our male who is sprawled out upon the hard floor as violent sobs quake his body, tear-stained cheeks turn red and eyes swell to his wailing. It is not an easy sight for us as parents to witness.
“Mama.” This time he summons me, aching for my touch for the comfort I can provide. He wishes to be liberated from this.
“My male,” I implore Deimos a short whine parting my lips as I weep along with my pup. It pains me to see him this way. This is unmerciful.
“Sit down, Lumina. I know it is arduous but observe him, he will make you proud. The third time he falls he will show you his power.” Deimos utters his voice firm and unwavering his past knowledge of this uplifting his flesh with confidence in his male.
“Look at me. Kal, Look at me.” Deimos commands his male as he peeks up at him with petrified downcast eyes. “Rise. I know you are frightened but there is nothing here that shall truly harm you, I know you are a true warrior so rise, my male.”
Kal nods his head meekly accepting his father’s terms as he exerts himself to stand up and remain sturdy. Once he regains his balance he peeks up at his father cautiously monitoring his every movement.
Deimos strikes him down again and he collapses tortuously. But this time he does not cry he merely exposes his blazing eyes of irritation to Deimos and stands up without the need to be ordered. Deimos smiles tenderly, his chest puffing mildly to his emerging pride.
“Good.” He says with acknowledgement of his male’s evolution of antics.
Deimos orbits him once more as Kal keeps still his eyes adhered to the wall not making a single move. Deimos disguises his movements well keeping the sounds of his feet null, he walks like a ghost only to shove his male from another unpredictable direction.
Kal is alarmed of course but he does not yield, he restrains his weight on his feet for he has discovered that his father shall knock him down anytime soon. He is seeking to predict from where.
“Excellent.” Deimos praises his male narrowing his globes memorising the way Kal learns. He leaves no gaps, teaching our pup with profound professionalism.
“Stop, papa,” Kal demands low fierceless pup growls thundering out his chest, brilliantly wild greens showing his displeasure of his father’s ways. Deimos’s lips tilt upward as he grapples to contain his amused smile.
“Why must I? We are merely playing a game.” Deimos ridicules the wee one with a comical shrug of his shoulders.
“I no like this game.”
“Then make me yield, Kal for I have no intention in settling.” No this is not a taunt, this an indirect act of encouragement. Deimos waits, I wait each holding our breath anticipating that he shall do what he must. For if he does do so, it functions as a sign. A sign that he can be trained with ease.
Sparkling greens glimpse at me, as I nod my head with eagerness. “Hit papa.” I mouth inaudibly punching my fists into the air showing him how to.