Training is no less intense just because Ravus has been gentle with him up until now. Prompto, as with every other session, is still put to the test in every aspect. There's a good set of stretches beforehand. Afterall, there's no point in snapping tendons or overextending muscles carelessly, lest they lose even more training time. Once limber, they launch into it. Ravus forces Prompto to defend himself ferociously, though every blow is measured with the accuracy of someone that has known what unchecked strength feels like used against him. Pointless punishment for the sake of pain isn't something he will ever use against a dear friend, no matter how effective it may be in toughening up.
His claws never gouge, only the strike of his palm hits. Always with his real hand, as the magitek arm is solely kept up to block or deflect. And his sweeping lashes and kicks always skate away from joints or vitals. Near enough to remind Prompto of the threat of leaving openings, until he can drill it into his muscle memory where he naturally should guard.
Again and again, Ravus presses him, while the adrenaline sings in their veins. Until Ravus turns with a great sweep of his tail, and buckles Prompto's legs out from beneath him.
Ravus stops when he hits the ground, breathing deep and even to counteract the race of his heart.
“Remember, you have been given new weapons. Claws and tail to strike, until we can find you firearms again. But you have also been given defensive measures. Consider your scales and spines like the carapace of a bulette - a thorny shield between your foe and your life.” As if to demonstrate, the thick neural spines along Ravus’ back flare up, deadly points that wave menacingly, daring anything to try him.
Of course, the motion reopens all the thin, spidery blood vessels that are newly developing to feed into the spines. A proper ridge has yet to develop, so the paper-thin skin bleeds down the line of his back, though Ravus hardly seems to notice while he watches Prompto to ensure both that he's paying attention, and that he's not hurt beyond expected bruises.
no subject
His claws never gouge, only the strike of his palm hits. Always with his real hand, as the magitek arm is solely kept up to block or deflect. And his sweeping lashes and kicks always skate away from joints or vitals. Near enough to remind Prompto of the threat of leaving openings, until he can drill it into his muscle memory where he naturally should guard.
Again and again, Ravus presses him, while the adrenaline sings in their veins. Until Ravus turns with a great sweep of his tail, and buckles Prompto's legs out from beneath him.
Ravus stops when he hits the ground, breathing deep and even to counteract the race of his heart.
“Remember, you have been given new weapons. Claws and tail to strike, until we can find you firearms again. But you have also been given defensive measures. Consider your scales and spines like the carapace of a bulette - a thorny shield between your foe and your life.” As if to demonstrate, the thick neural spines along Ravus’ back flare up, deadly points that wave menacingly, daring anything to try him.
Of course, the motion reopens all the thin, spidery blood vessels that are newly developing to feed into the spines. A proper ridge has yet to develop, so the paper-thin skin bleeds down the line of his back, though Ravus hardly seems to notice while he watches Prompto to ensure both that he's paying attention, and that he's not hurt beyond expected bruises.