Training (Open to all Pack members)

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 Patrick yawned. He was roughly a month old, yet he was strong. He looked like his father, raised by him as well. He knew he had a mom, but she hadn't approached dad. Patrick was mad at her for this. She had left him to die, but he did remember the night he was born. He remembered three warm bodies beside him. One was his mom, but the other two Patrick didn't understand. Dad had said he had been born alone and left in the den. Patrick rolled his orange eyes, maybe he had a faulty memory or something.

 Patrick looked around, then up at the giant Redwood. He started trying to climb it, eyes set on the top. Then he felt himself lose his grip and fall. He got back up, and looked back up. He would get there, to prove he wasn't a small addition to the pack. He would fight like six wolves, when he was older. For now, two wolves would have to do. He tried again, and again. 

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Amadeus watched his son with a stony expression. He didnt really know how to feel. Lokianna had left raising Pat all to him, which, frankly, frustrated him. This wasn't part of the deal, he hadn't asked for this. But, he had decided that if Patrick would become an asset to the pack, he'd need a father figure to train him and show him the way of evil life. Coming up beside his son, he crouched, gathering his haunches. With an abrupt spring he clambered into the fallen giant. Looking down at his struggling spawn, he advised him.

"Pat, start again." He barked softly. "Now gather your energy and focus to leaping up as far as you can. Very good. Now you need to pull yourself up, digging your claws into the soft wood. There you go. One more time." Amadeus surveyed his son and corrected him accordingly. A small spark of pride glimmered in his violet eye. It was strange, the male had not expected this kind of feeling towards his son, but it was undeniably there. Patrick had once asked who his mother was, Amadeus has answered, "I don't have the right to tell you. She will come to you in her own due time."

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(Should Lokianna pop in?)
Patrick looked at his father, orange eyes wide with awe. He clawed up the rotten wood, his mini claws still getting a good grip. He wanted to be the next alpha, he wanted to prove to his mother that he was not worthless. He found himself on the top of the log, and he looked out on the forest. This was his forest, or it would be one day.
Patrick knew he was looked down apon. He was by far the youngest wolf in the pack, he was the only pup. He needed to work twice as hard to prove himself to the older wolves so that they would respect him. No wolf would ever question him. If they did, they would face his claws and fangs.

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(I don't know. Do you want a father son heart to heart training session or a stiff, emotionally strained conversation?)

Amadeus watched his son climb appraisingly. You have to admit he was a fast learner. Perhaps someday he could achieve something great. The recent father swept his tail over the patch of moss next to him, motioning for his son to sit. "Today, we begin your training. But in order to train you, I need to know you. What are your ambitions? What am I training you to become?" The charming wolfs electric purple eyes glittered with intensity as he awaited his sons answer. Patrick obviously had much potential. He wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but perhaps with time...

A wolf didnt have to actually be talented to be good at something. They just needed to be better than everyone else.