"No! You swing towards your dominant side, Barb! If you swing towards the left you will never hit that target!" I yelled for perhaps the tenth time. "And you don't have to go eight hundred kilometers an hour!"

Barb scrunched her nose up at me. "It doesn't work the other way. And I'm not as big as you so it's harder for me to get momentum."

I tried my hardest not to slap her. "I knew plenty of kittens who aimed better than you! They listened better too!"

"Fine then! Watch me do it your way!"

Mika had been so much easier to train. And when I say that, you know that there is something terribly wrong with Barb.

I had been training Thrush, Barb and Qiwi since after lunch. We went to that one place that served chicken. Barb complained that it was too spicy and she made them change it three times. When I was going over the types of orbs, Barb commented on every. Single. One.

Why's it do that?

Why doesn't it have a cooler power?

Why would I want to have anything to do with that one?

Why do we even need to learn these? It's not like we'll be going to the bathroom and a demon will pop up and we have to blast it with a cherry bomb.

You'd be surprised how many times that happens around here.

But Thrush and Qiwi had been very good. Qiwi was a bit weak and mumbly, but she made up for it with her determination. Thrush didn't really grasp how strong or large he was, (I won't list everything he broke with his tail or butt) but he was more than willing to try everything I asked him to do.

The two of them threw orbs at targets, checking their position and going smoothly through the reps. I had given them a few drills to work through as I convinced Barb that listening to me was a good idea.

"Ugh! Why can't I get it!" She hissed, smashing an orb under her paw. Shards of glass sprinkled everywhere, making her bleed instantly. "Oww!" She wailed like a kitten for a minute. I had no sympathy for her.

Other animals training looked at me like oh my goodness, why can't he shut his kid up?

"Now that was your fault, wasn't it?" She ignored me. "HEY! If you think I'm gonna play babysitter with you, then you've come to the wrong trainer. I'm not gonna train caterwauling babies. If you're gonna cry and lecture me about how incompetent you are, then you can just throw yourself to the baddies and wait for them to freeze you to death!"

Was I being too harsh? Not in my mind. Barb had severed my last strand of patience.

She made a final pout, then glared at me. She then picked up an orb in her jaws and carefully positioned herself. She made an attempt to do exactly what I said.

"Hey, Kota," Thrush said, "can you check my footing?"

I went over to where Thrush was. He placed his paws nicely, ready to throw an orb.

I tapped his back leg. "Spread your back legs out a bit farther. And don't let them get so tense; keep them springy."

I didn't say it, but Thrush was becoming a great trainee. In time, he would be an excellent chaser.

We went on throwing orbs for the next half hour. I was trying to stick to a strict schedule of training. Usually we would go over foot position for three weeks, but I had three minutes.

Afterwards I showed them the weapons hanging from the wall upstairs. I had always admired the large collection of weapons. I thought it was amazing that half of the weapons were meant for humans, and yet I could use them just as easily. I could hit a baddie in the eye with a throwing knife or battle a medieval knight with a sword if I wanted to.

"This is so cool!" Barb said happily. I sighed with relief; she was actually excited about something for once.

Qiwi looked a little scared. I could relate to the feeling; rows of glinting, beautifully-sharpened sliver knives was quite daunting.

"These are all made from different metals, but the majority are silver or iron. Some are titanium. Blacksmiths from the forge work on a single weapon for weeks or even months, so treat them with respect. Other than that, there are a few rules for using them: one, put them away when you are done. Two, don't use them on other chasers, animals, people, elves, Klookies or any other living, friendly thing that I haven't listed. Three, keep them in here. Don't take them out of the banger. Don't sneak them out of the banger. And four, look before you strike. Don't throw a knife before you are one hundred percent sure nothing is in your way. Got it?" I asked, staring at them.

They nodded.

"Say it. Say that you've got it and you won't break the rules, Kota."

"We've got it and we won't break the rules, Kota." They said harmoniously.

"Good. Now, choose a knife and some claws and we'll head to the dummy room." I said, grabbing a set for myself. I noticed that Thrush purposely looked for the heaviest weapons while Qiwi looked for the longest and Barb looked for the least cumbersome. My old trainer Dover had said something about how someone's weapon preference can tell you a lot about them. I wasn't sure what that meant before, but it felt like I was starting to get it.

The dummy room was downstairs in the opposite corner of the stairs. A little door led to a room the size of a bedroom. Dummies made of potato sacks, straw and newspaper lied in a pile by the corner. A pole with a hook on it stood upright in the center of the room.

I hung a dummy on the pole. It's button eyes seemed to say it's alright, you can shred me to bits. It doesn't hurt very much. I felt bad for whoever made those things; they got shredded in a single attack.

"We'll start with the knives. They're a bit tricky, but you get them pretty quick." I said.

I picked up my knife and got the feel for it in my mouth. I grasped it tightly to the side then sprung for the dummy and stabbed it in the heart. I would have attacked more, but for the exercise we didn't need to shred the dummy.

I stepped down and took the knife from the dummy's chest then moved the knife to the side of my mouth. "Thrush, you try first. Don't worry about perfection, but remember that whenever you attack, you need to be fast and firm."

He hesitated for a second, adjusting the knife perfectly in his mouth. He hopped on his paws, finding a good center of gravity. When he jumped, it was like lightning. Thrush was surprisingly fast. He stabbed the poor scarecrow in the eye, making the black button snap in half. Straw stuffing popped out the other side, and the stick that the scarecrow hung on bent under Thrush's weight. When he jumped back, he didn't come back with his knife. It had been buried in the dummy's head.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't break it, did I?" He asked sheepishly.

"That was great." I said, waving my tail slightly. "That would have toppled over a person. I'm not sure if I would suggest stabbing someone in the eye, but we'll work on target spots later. Pull your knife out and let Qiwi go."
Thrush gripped the end of the knife and pulled it out.

Qiwi got ready to attack. There was a look of determination in her blue eyes. She jumped at the dummy as she made a small roaring noise. She landed on top of the dummy's head though. To make up for her bad aim, she stabbed the scarecrow in the back, growling.

"That's alright, Qiwi; don't stab it to death." I said over her loud, growling noises.

Qiwi looked back at me the way a kitten might after it just got caught in the middle of some mischief. She then pulled her knife out of the scarecrow's back and dropped it on the floor. It hit with a clatter, pieces of straw following it gently.

"Okay." She said, not looking at me. She made a final show of gripping her claws in the burlap and wiggling her tail before sliding down.

"That was interesting," I said. Barb giggled. "It can definitely be improved."

Qiwi nodded without meeting my eyes. She grabbed her knife and walked back into a shadow.

"You go, Barb. Aim for the stomach instead." I said.

"You really think I'm gonna be able to jump that high? There is now way I can do that with a knife in my mouth." She complained.

I sighed. I should have expected that. "Okay. I don't care about what you can't do. I care about what you can. So just try your best or I'll teach you how to jump."

Barb looked a bit surprised, but she whipped the look off her face and grabbed the knife clumsily in her jaws. She was barely able to wrap her teeth around the handle.

Barb sprang to the dummy and landed on it's chest. She hooked all claws into it and skewered her knife in it's sternum. A second later she pulled the knife out and it dropped to the floor with her.

She didn't look at me or say see? I can't do it! She just scowled at the knife.

"Good job, Barb; you jumped higher than I told you to. But don't aim for the center of the chest; there's a bone there called the sternum. You won't be able to cause real damage that way unless you can cut through bone."

She didn't say anything.

"Alright; let's try claws." I said. "Put them on." I made a show of strapping mine on. Thrush and Qiwi watched intently with each step or movement of my paw. Barb ignored me completely and shoved her paws in clumsily.

"These are so stupid! Animals can't put on stuff like this!" Barb yelled thirty seconds later. Qiwi and Thrush were struggling a bit, but they tried diligently.

I walked over to Barb and sat by her, eyeing the claws. No wonder she couldn't get them to work; she had shoved three toes in one ring.

I sighed again, trying to think of the best way to teach her. I couldn't say oh you poor baby! Let me fix that for you! She would never learn how to put them on herself. But I couldn't be all secretive-ninja master and come up with some riddle that vaguely connected to the meaning of life. With a single latch comes an array of possibilities. But with possibilities also comes downfalls.

"Take a look at mine." I said, lifting up my paw and spreading my toes out. "It fits perfectly. Look at yours and fix it."

Barb hesitated, then took off her claws and put them back on. This time it was perfect; each toe was in its correct loop. She clinked her claws together happily.

"Alright. Let's get started." I said to the group. "Claws are difficult to control, but after a while they feel more natural.  They were made especially for predators. So when you use them, treat them like your actual claws or better. They can get bent or torn just as easily because of how long they are."

Just talking about the claws made me feel melancholy. They were Mika's favorite weapon, even though she had trained with them for five minutes. She was great at using claws.