we built this city on broken glass

He enjoyed the intensity of the woman. That inner fire. Her sheer determination to best whatever task or skill was set before her. It was, he suspected, part of her very species. Coyotes were tough animals. Hardy, resourceful- survivors in every sense. She enjoyed the challenges set before her and he, in turn, enjoyed her simple tenacity for them. She was bold, firey and so designed to be a leader in every sense. Those very qualities ones the stallion intended to enhance within her while still assuring she remembered her place all the same. She could and no doubt would prove to be an alpha herself in time. That time however, was hardly any time soon. Frost, for now, determined to teach the woman how best to use her human body to the best of her ability. To use only her canine form was to use only half of her metaphorical arsenal. She would always be physically stronger as a coyote, swifter, her senses improved and yet in this human world there were limitations on an animal form. One her human form could easily overcome and he would be a poor Alpha not to teach her that. He had been forced to learn such skills alone and yet she had to support of a pack. Frost intent on his goal to make his own pack and those within it far superior to any other. Todays training merely the beginning of that.

She was quick to learn to make that fist and se the sense behind the placement of her thumb, her eagerness to begin, in the least, not resulting in to much impatience as the stallion wandered from her to retrieve those hay bales. The first bale was stood upright, the second hoisted up to balance atop it to provide the pair with that 'practice' being in a sense. The tightly bound, compacted hay sure to provide Malia with something solid to hit against, something that would force her to engage her strength a little and provide that resistance. After all, he hardly had a real being for her to practice striking. Perhaps, in time, he would need invest in a punching bag. For now this would suffice. Frost nothing if not flexible and adaptable. That instruction not to strike the hay to hard, at first, seemed to prompt little more than a scowl from the woman. Her impatience it seemed, at last beginning to show and yet for all her impatience Frost himself seemed to hold every ounce of patience in turn. The stallion a decidedly....calm being in every sense. One hardly prone to fluster or allow her eagerness to hurry him. If she tried to strike that bale without first getting a feel for how solid it truly was she was only going to hurt herself. Those practice strikes too so gave him every opportunity to study her technique. The man almost pleasantly surprised.

She had good technique. A simple, raw talent. She was accurate and more then that- she was consistent in her strikees. The delight she took in that softly uttered praise was near as clear as the disdain she took in being told her stance needed work. Frost unable to hide that near ghost of a smile once more. Malia, of all his pack, would surely be the one to challenge him the most in time and yet he hardly found himself opposed to the idea. Even despite her clear discontent for being commanded she turned her form as he instructed, that simple change putting her weight behind those punches now. Those first few jabs were little more than practice. Frost falling silent as his violet gaze lingered upon her, waiting for that inevitable blow. Malia, this time, unleashing far more force into that hit- that top bale sent catapulting to the ground as she grinned triumphantly. Frost's own head nodded in simple approve. His own arms unfolding from his chest as he moved to return that bale to its stand.

"That was good, that was a solid hit and with that you will knock most people down- if not give them a reason to think about coming near you again. With more practice you will get even faster and hit even harder."

Practice, he suspected, was not at all something malia minded. He hardly chose to pry into her mind and indeed hardly needed to in that moment to feel that simple satisfaction and pleasure she took in this simple task. She was a creature of purpose and this training gave her that very purpose she desired. How useful she would be in time. Even the most powerful strikes, however, would be rendered useless if aimed at the wrong part of the body. His form shifted easily back towards her then, his arms folded back across his chest as he simply inquired to those weak points she knew off. Those violet eyes held upon her expectantly now, Frost curious off her knowledge and of....who it was that seemed to flicker within her mind. A man she was picturing? That image so pilfered from her mind to his own. Was she seeing someone? Was this why she was out so late at night? It was, he supposed, hardly his concern what she did with her time, that pack bond that bound them never holding any note of distress. If she was seeing someone then whomever it was, in the least, was hardly harming her. Frost pressing aside such thoughts for now as she listed off those 'weak points'. His head nodded again.

"The nose in particular is weak in humans- good. The chest is also good, particularly if you can knock your opponent down first. Ribs can still be hard to get by so don't make it your first target it, save that for when you have them in a position to do more sustained damage. Breaking a limb is always effective as is the throat if your aiming to make sure your opponent does not get up again. You did well, Malia."

He paused, allowing that simple praise to set in once more before he made any effort to continue, those accented words as cool and smooth as always as he offered them. Frost, this time, turning his own body to use as something of an example- his fingers reaching down to tap the back off his right knee.

"Here is a particularly weak spot, kick this and your opponents legs will collapse. An elbow to the stomach is an excellent defense if someone grabs you from behind and if your attacker is a man then....this area is incredibly vulnerable."

His hand merely lifted from the back off his knee then to gesture to that place between his legs. That singular place one no man ever sought to have any damage too. A strike there, even a half-hearted one, enough to make any man buckle. He paused once more, affording the woman time to process that information or ask any of those questions that might arise before his attention returned back to that hay bale. Frost coming to stand beside her then.

"We'll working on kicking now, since you had so much interest in it that night at the Ark. Your legs are stronger than your hands- but they lack the same accuracy. A simple, straight forward kick at the shins will stop most people. You want to hit them with the toe of your shoe. A truly effective kick, however, comes from hitting your opponent with the flat part at the front of your foot here. You want to start facing your enemy, bring your leg up and out before turning yourself like you did when you punched. Swing you leg around in a single, smooth motion as you do, putting your weight behind that kick. You'll knock almost anyone down with that. Try it now on the lower hay bale. Imagine it is a pair of legs. See if you can kick it out from beneath the top one. Remember to turn your body as you swing your leg- it will take practice."

Who better to teach her how to kick then a horse? Frost stepping away from her then to let her have those few practice strikes and feel the weight of that hay again. Frost content to circle around her as she did. The man watching her technique with every practice strike. Those words coming suddenly then and yet there was no harshness nor judgement to them.

"Who is the man in your mind Malia? I can see him clearly. Is he the one you go to see at night? Keep practising, you can kick and talk at the same time. It is not a crime to have an interest in a man. I am simply curious, you haven't mentioned him. Who is he?"

She could either tell him- or that pack bond would. Her mind as equally capable of giving up her secrets and yet for now he was content enough to merely ask them off her. If Malia wished to date then so be it, he would hardly stop her and yet who she was dating was off...interest to him. That near possessive, protective edge tugging at him. Malia, after all, was his pack mate and he would see to it whomever she was with brought her no harm.

FrosT