Fireheart rose, stretching, yawning.

Pride had led him back to Orion the night before: shown him the Throne, explained a bit more about the Seven and its members. And Pride had promised him, too, training.

The white stag's skills lay in mind-magic, he'd said--a thing Fireheart very much wished to learn. He approached it all in a studious, determined manner: calculating, methodical. He wanted to learn about shields, first and foremost: protection. And then illusionary magic, as Pride had described it; and the ability to manipulate the "battlefield." While Fireheart hadn't seen battle, himself, something about the description of it--and the talk of protecting others--interested him.

'Come and find me when you've rested, and we'll begin,' the stag had said, after Fireheart had accepted the offer of induction into the Seven. And now that he had rested, he did just that.

His nose led him along, ears forward and listening, and the soft whisper of paw-pads on rock announced his arrival at the throne.

"Pride?" he called out; "Are you here?"

Flameglow eyes lifted, the soft warmth that shrouded the fire-wolf evident. Fire... that, he'd learn later. That, he'd master.

He'd been up, briefly--stretched, and little else--when he heard the white wolf calling him.

"Here," he replied, making his way somewhat groggily, out from behind the throne. A nod Fireheart's way; the wolf seemed quite awake. "Good to see you; good morning. Ahh--if you see my familiar about... small, white hair--do not harm her, please. Green gemstone around one eye."

The last thing he wanted was poor Mischief getting accidentally eaten by their newest member.

Pride looked around, stifling a yawn, and focused for a moment on raising his habitual kinetic shield. Nothing happened, and he offered a brief, annoyed mental curse at his new ineptitude post-Transcendence. It was damn frustrating.

"In fact, do you mind if we move off to somewhere I can eat, while we do this? I've just woken up," he explained, a bit apologetically.

He was still asleep, or just woke up, Fireheart realized; and at Pride's greeting, he dipped his head in kind. "Good morning," he repeated back, politely.

At the mention of food, he lowered his nose to the rock. His intent was to summon up another banana, but nothing happened, and after a moment he shrugged and lifted his head again. "It seems my magic isn't being cooperative; but by all means, lead on. I won't harm your familiar, if I see it; but please tell me: what is a familiar?" Curiosity filled his tone as he glanced to the stag.

It was a word he'd never heard before, and he glanced around; surely Pride had meant "hare" and not "hair," yes?

Pride turned, striding off in a stately manner toward one of the gardens that other Gembound had planted here in Orion. He tended to rotate his browsing, when he ate here rather than Eridanus--to better give the plants a chance to solidly grow back. As he walked, he again attempted to raise his ever-present barrier (which, this time, flared obediently into invisible place), though he gave attention, too, to Fireheart and his words, and question.

"What did you try to do?" he asked, at first; and then, "A familiar is a Lesser--a creature without sentience--that we can bond to. It takes a great deal of time and effort; it isn't an easy spell. Even I--and I like to think that mind-magic is my specialty--had trouble with it. It involves... hm, imparting part of yourself, your magic, into a Lesser. It links your minds, your emotions, thoughts--such as they are--and you can ask them to do things for you, and the like. Mischief has been useful for delivering what I suppose I can call messages, but bear in mind she is still not truly sapient. Smarter than others of her kind, perhaps; but she still cannot speak. Her 'messages' involve convincing someone to follow her, usually, back to me."

Pride, as he spoke, kept a sedate pace through Orion, his hooves clicking on the rock. Behind him, he could hear the whisper of pawpads, and could smell the faint, predatory odor of wolf. It was a scent that sang warnings along his nerves, but also one he'd long ago learned to tolerate. Predators had that edge of unpleasantness, but some of his best friends had been lions, dogs and the like, so he was used to it, at least.

He came to a halt at the edge of one of the gardens, tail briefly flicking--hunger prompted a quick bite into the leaves, and then, this chewed and swallowed, the grasses. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.

Between bites, he glanced half-back (more for politeness than for vision; he could see almost entirely behind himself) and asked, "So; what do you want to learn first? Have you decided?"

Fireheart shook himself, a little, thinking. He again focused on trying to create a banana, this time for himself, now that the stag had his own meal.

"It sounds useful," he offered, thoughtfully, in regard to Pride's familiar. A messenger, and an ally? Many of the Lessers were formidable in their own right. Hmm.

One of the sparkling bananas appeared at his feet, so abruptly he startled--he'd nearly forgotten he was creating one. He then leaned down, incisors delicately stripping away the peel so that he could consume the white fruit within. As he ate (and gained faint sparkles) he framed his answer to Pride's question.

"I'd imagine that learning defense would be most useful, first. So that I survive to learn the rest," he added, with amusement in his tone. "Then, possibly the rest of what you have to teach, more gradually--primarily illusions, second, if possible; and then the ability to move myself, magically?" The illusions, in his mind, were one of those magics that could be most useful in terms of trickery and creative use. Defense by confusion; a cloak for offensive maneuvers. That sort of thing.

"But shields first, certainly."

Pride nodded a bit, and turned, working his way over the leaves and grasses. Once he was done eating, which was only a few minutes' time really (and he could continue to browse, he knew, while they trained) he lifted his head and nodded to Fireheart.

"Shields, then. I know of a few types. Armor is useful, of course; I could form some for you, but without a way to take it off, you'd be stuck with it on, of course. As for magical, there is the sort that can provide a barrier; and then I have another that imbues kinetic energy, and expends upon being struck."

He stepped around, turning to fully-face Fireheart, and focused; he lowered his head, his rather threatening rack of pale antlers facing the wolf. "I focus my magical energy outward, and then shape it: forming it into a shield-shape, with the intention of allowing anything impacting it to flow into and around it. Magic is... power, shaped by intent; remember that." Or that, at least, was how Pride saw it, and he was unaware of any unintentional condescension as he explained his way of thinking to the wolf.

Pride paused, for a moment, but nothing happened; and he shook his head, a little. "I apologize for failing at demonstrating it, at least. But imagine a barrier, between yourself, and I; it should work well enough," he suggested. He hated this feeling of fickleness--but he hoped, at least, that with practice it would fade.

Well, the description was something to go off of, at least.

There was no demonstration, and Fireheart felt a little disappointed, at that; he could shape his magic, but there was no guarantee it would be what Pride was describing.

Ahh, well.

He turned and concentrated, on his own, focusing on his magicka, on a dome shape before him: on a shield that would absorb and deflect anything coming his way. What flickered up was... weak, at best, and he was a little disappointed in it, but it was something, at least.

"I trust this is at least... vaguely accurate?" he asked, with some difficulty, and through gritted fangs.

Pride gave a little nod, taking a breath and stepping forward. He eyed the barrier closely, pacing around it, and around Fireheart, to get a better look.

"I believe that's right, yes. It looks right, at the very least. Try to hold it up, while I hit it--if I can--with something light." He glanced around, debating his options, briefly--some light magic, unlikely to fail, but something Fireheart could at least feel impact his shield. It should be good practice, he imagined.

After a moment, he decided to revert to his very basic magic: the first he'd known, and among the simplest types. A simple blast of energy, enough to knock a Gembound off its feet at full power, but little more.

And it was a light blast--a mild hit, barely striking the shield. Perfectly-calibrated, really, to impact the barrier with the exact amount of energy that it held.

The blast struck, and Fireheart winced, flinching some--he could feel it ripple through the barrier, just barely shy of fully dispersing it.

At once, he adjusted it: the shape, the structure of the very magic itself. He poured a little more power into it, and moved his paws just so, and spoke.

"I think I have it. Again, please--a little harder, this time, if you would."

Pride inclined his head, coming around to stand directly in front of Fireheart. He focused, for a moment, a flicker of mischief rising in him--what if he showed his true power, just... this once? Bowled the wolf off his feet, sent him tumbling paws-over-tail across the stone? It wouldn't hurt him, really-...

It was cruel thinking, though, even as a lighthearted display. No--he'd hit it strongly, but not at full power.

He half-closed his eyes in focus, and the blast this time was just slightly stronger than the wolf's shield--but barely; it slapped into the barrier, creating a visible shimmer, the energy rocking around the wolf and sending dust and pebbles skittering along the rock.

Pride then nodded, a little, impressed. "You picked that up quickly," he noted, with approval.