Bluebird

by Hammerhead

Hoof to Claw

A pegasus platoon made their way to the gymnasium, but not to play any sports. As they were second term cadets, they were about to begin their new physical exercises. No longer being forced to run and fly in circles every morning, there was a hint of motivation and intrigue amongst them, aided by the energy that had not yet been drained from them since they woke up.

Every time Gallus entered the gymnasium it looked slightly different from the last, having only been inside it once when it wasn’t set up for a bazaar or fair. The most noticeable difference this time was that most of the shiny wooden flooring was covered by dark blue gym mats. As the platoon walked around the perimeter, Gallus briefly pressed one of his hind paws on the mat and noted the considerable amount of cushion it had despite how hard and thin it felt.

On each mat was a large stuffed burlap sack, and what looked like a pair of gloves and leather helmets with straps on them. It didn’t take long for Gallus to guess that this new exercise looked like it would involve fighting with hooves, or in his case, claws.

Staff Sergeant Razorwing was not far behind them and made them sit just outside of the array of mats. He then walked onto the mats and positioned himself front and centre of the platoon, who were sat in two orderly lines. “Listen up cadets” he bellowed, ceasing all idle chatter amongst them before he continued his introduction of the day’s exercise. “Today is your first day of combat battle training.”

“Now a few of you may already have experience with this from serving as regular soldiers,” he remarked, scanning the crowd to mentally point out the experienced cadets from the younger ones, “but when you’re an officer it’s different. The soldiers in your command depend on you being able to fight alongside them, and even without a weapon you must be able to defend yourself.”

“So, who amongst you think you can fight in hoof-to-hoof combat like an officer?” he asked the group.

Idle chatter started again as some of the cadets started raising a hoof. Gallus had a smirk on his face, he had a couple of fights in his days, not that it was something he’d recall kindly, but he felt he could handle himself. Yet, as he attempted to raise his right arm, he suddenly felt something pulling it back down.

He turned to his right and noticed Scythe was sitting next to him. Gallus furrowed his brow as his friend had his forehoof wrapped over the griffon’s arm, with a surprising amount of force pushing down for a pegasus who looked calm. Although he kept his eyes pointing forward, Gallus noticed Scythe rotating his head barely a degree on either side.

While Gallus considered just raising his left arm instead, he looked beyond Scythe towards the other cadets. Of the few that had their hooves raised, most of them were young like him, and looked confident with their heads high and smiles on their faces. Most of the older cadets kept their hooves on the floor. Suspecting that Scythe knew being confident at this stage was a bad idea, he opted to relax his arm instead.

Razorwing scanned the crowd again, before giving a nod. “Alright, Officer Cadet Lightning Dust, get up here and show me.” He curled his right hoof up, gesturing the mare to step onto the mat. Lightning Dust was one of only three older cadets to have their hoof raised, her arrogance still prevalent as she gave a smug grin and stood up.

The staff sergeant then briefed the demonstration, “I’ll make it easy, I won’t punch or kick, while you get free rein. First to hit the mat loses.” For Lightning Dust grinned and nodded in affirmation, this sounded easier than she expected, she knew this fight wouldn’t last long.

After putting on helmets and gloves, the two stared each other down as the fight commenced. Lightning Dust lowered the top half of her body like a lion waiting to pounce, meanwhile, Razorwing stood tall and firm, waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

Lightning Dust spread her wings out, and quickly jumped up and darted straight towards Razorwing. The crowd whipped their heads from one side to follow her as she got closer and closer to the stonewalled sergeant. It was at the last possible moment that Razorwing made his move, narrowly dodging the incoming tackle, but also missing an opportunity to counter with an attack as the younger mare corkscrewed past him.

Missing the attack was a mere setback for Lightning Dust, as within a moment of landing on the mat, she projected herself backwards with a slight twist to reorient herself and she dashed back towards Razorwing. While she hoped a more direct strike would knock him down, Razorwing lowered himself in preparation. With a single extended hoof, Lightning Dust was grabbed and restrained. From speeding through the air with outstretched wings to having both her forearms and wings held behind her and unable to move.

The only way she avoided a full-speed crash headfirst onto the mat was Razorwing holding her up and slowing her down enough for her to land on her bare belly with a light thud. Once both ponies were on the ground, Razorwing stood up and placed one hoof on Lightning Dust’s back to claim victory. “Good effort, sit back down” he ordered, before allowing her to stand up and walk back to the group with her head low and her brows knitted.

“Better luck next time, Dusty!” jeered Nicknames, not helping the mare’s dampened mood at being defeated easily.

The taunting also gave Razorwing a new target to practice on, “Officer Cadet Nick, you had your hoof up earlier, now it’s your turn,” he called out, gesturing the stallion up. The regret on Nicknames’ face dropped in as his eyes went wide, slowly standing up and cautiously moving towards the mat.

“Same rules as last time, whenever you’re ready.”

Razorwing’s calm and brief words didn’t do much to quell Nicknames’ worries, but he figured that if the worst was rubbing his face on the mat beneath him, it might not end up that badly. The corner of his mouth started to curve into a smirk at the thought he may have a better chance than Lightning Dust.

Instead of going straight for flying, Nicknames strategized to stay grounded. He drew long breaths and made quick steps on the floor to amp himself up as he made a slow approach towards the sergeant. Once he was close enough, he went for the attack.

Nicknames lifted himself to his hind hooves and threw his forehooves in a violent barrage, so much so that Razorwing needed to put in more effort than moving to one side to avoid them. As Razorwing got on his hind hooves to deflect and get closer, Nicknames used his wings to retreat far enough that the two returned to standing.

After Nicknames showed a cocky grin, it was Razorwing’s turn to attack. He charged at the stallion, before rising and thrusting two hooves right at his chest. The push was enough for Nicknames to rely on his wings, flapping them incessantly to maintain his balance, and it was also enough time to distract. Razorwing manoeuvred himself in short leaps to get behind his opponent.

Having an enemy at your flank leaves you vulnerable, with not many options to attack from behind and little time to turn around to face them. As Nicknames was still on his hind hooves and had managed to regain his balance, he decided he was going to buck his sergeant similar to how a farmer bucks a tree.

He glanced behind so he could line his hind hooves with Razorwing’s head, before shifting his body weight forward to bend his legs in and kick them as far out as he could. Unfortunately for him, another glance revealed Razorwing was no longer where he was.

Instead, the sergeant had ducked, avoiding a hoof to the face and had an opening. Nicknames didn’t have much time to react as he felt hooves wrap around his torso and felt his whole body not only rising but leaning further and further forward until he was almost upside down.

SLAM!

Nicknames lay flat on the gym mat as the sound of his impact echoed across the gymnasium, the audience winced collectively and shuddered at the sheer force of the impact. All that he could do was lay wide-eyed with barely any air in his lungs to make a sound to describe the shock and pain he was feeling, all the while Razorwing stood over with a forehoof on top of his chest.

Razorwing turned to the stunned crowd of the other cadets. “Now, who amongst you think you can fight in hoof-to-hoof combat like an officer?” This time, not even Gallus tried to raise his arm, having understood why doing so was a bad idea. “Well, that’s why you’re in training,” the staff sergeant remarked as he scanned the silent cadets, some of whom still had their eyes fixed on their fellow cadet who appeared barely alive nearby.

“While I do some checks, pick a partner, find a space on the mat, and warm-up.”

One by one, the cadets got up and murmured to themselves, promptly picking partners in the hopes they would avoid facing off against the staff sergeant Razorwing. As Gallus went to find a space on the mat to stretch, warm up and put on gloves and helmets with Scythe and the others, he couldn’t help but notice Razorwing was still nearby Nicknames.

Having lifted the winded pegasus into a sitting position, Razorwing spent the next few minutes talking to him, holding a hoof to his shoulder. Although Gallus could not hear him, Razorwing acted a lot calmer and more concerned, asking questions and seeing Nicknames nod along.

It was unsurprising, and reassuring, to see Razorwing as a supportive teacher and not just a loud and rough instructor, but that wasn’t the weirdest part in Gallus’ mind as he raised an eyebrow. The weirdest part was Gallus could swear he saw, for perhaps a few seconds, Staff Sergeant Razorwing smile.

---

The first portion of the exercise was on offence. In each pair, one pony would hold the burlap sack, while the other would punch and kick it. At least as close to punches and kicks as some cadets could manage, considering their forelegs bent inwards, and quadrupedal anatomy meant they could only “kick” from behind.

Most ponies would go into a rhythm as they strike: Left hoof, right hoof, left hoof, right hoof, turn, left kick, right kick, and then buck with both hooves. Each move was met with short breaths, meant to help control stamina in combat.

Pound Sterling lived up to her name, her hooves made imprints on the sack as they contacted with a sound loud enough to drown the other punches, it was sheer determination that Lightning Dust could hold on to the bag.

Nicknames was involuntarily paired with Staff Sergeant, having regained his energy, and felt the added pressure of making his strikes right in front of the Staff Sergeant. The one benefit it did have was he didn’t have to endure any of Razorwing’s strikes when it came time to switch turns. Instead, he was made to lift the heavy sack over his head, whilst the older pony inspected the other cadets, giving his usual levels of encouragement.

“Come on ponies! You call these strikes?” shouted Razorwing in a deriding manner. “My mother can buck harder than you lot, bless her heart.”

Meanwhile, Gallus had paired up with Scythe. The pegasus wasn’t much of a hard hitter, his hoof strikes sounded like pillows pounded together when Gallus held up the burlap sack. To his credit though, his strikes were consistent, always hitting the sack square in the centre even when his back was turned.

Gallus, on the other claw, had a slightly better time hitting the sack. Although Gallus wasn’t given ‘special’ gloves for him, the issued gloves were surprisingly effective, even if they felt like short and padded leather socks with just enough space inside for the griffon’s clenched up talons. The padding on them helped immensely with cushioning his darting jabs and swinging hooks, and he could feel and hear each hard smack he made against the burlap sack.

To follow the routine with the other cadets, he had to try out his kicks. Of course, there was somepony else who was interested in his kicks as well. “Griffon. What kind of bucks are those?” asked Razorwing as he appeared beside Gallus, looking back towards the griffon’s flank.

As he frowned, Gallus knew his kicks weren’t his strongest attacks. Although his legs were springy for large leaps and bounds, with soft round paws that were good for climbing, they weren’t useful for attacking, unlike his claws. As much as he dreaded the incoming ridicule, he glowered at the ground knowing that any flick of his legs and pat from his paws hardly made a dent at the bag he was supposed to be hitting.

“Staff Sergeant, I know you’ll say this isn’t an excuse” he admitted with humility, “but I don’t have hooves to ‘buck’ with.”

Razorwing simply stood up and folded his forehooves. “Well, griffon. You’re right about something,” he retorted sarcastically. “Griffons like you probably aren’t used to kicking, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have legs to kick. When you’re in the field, the enemy won’t play fair and wait for you to turn around before they attack you, you must be able to attack from behind”.

He pushed Gallus to the side with his body and stepped with his flank lined up towards the burlap sack, still held on by Scythe, as he began to demonstrate. “So, bend your leg in” he started, tucking his right hoof as far in as it could go. In anticipation, Scythe hurriedly pulled the sack upwards and held firmly for what was incoming. “And then out!”

Like a ball fired out of a cannon, Razorwing threw out his hoof towards the burlap sack, striking it with a loud direct hit, jolting Scythe backwards upon impact. The hoof made a near-permanent impression on the sack, and the sound it made caused the pair next to them to jump in surprise.

The demonstration was over. “Now keep going!” firmly ordered Razorwing, before moving down the line of other cadets to look them over.

After staring at the imprint on the sack for a moment, Gallus pouted with a hint of jealousy. “Yes, sir,” he calmly responded in a lowered voice, refraining from making any snide remarks under his breath. He repositioned himself to try again at kicking, curling his legs up and throwing them out in one smooth motion. Once he made the hit, he groaned internally, but he wasn’t sure why. It was either that the kick he made wasn’t enough, or that what Razorwing advised him did work to some degree.

---

The second portion was on defence. There were demonstrations of the blocks and parries, lots of arm movements to avoid being punched in the face, as well as grappling. Done in pairs like before, each cadet took turns with one doing a punch and the other blocking, parrying, and grappling with the cadet to get them to the floor.

For the cadets, it was less action and more learning, specifically in reaction and anatomy, understanding the moves that Razorwing was adept at demonstrating on Lightning Dust and Nicknames earlier. From afar, it was a bizarre mix of a brawl and a dance as each pair moved around until one fell to the floor.

For Gallus specifically, it was fascinating and concerning how much pegasus ponies understood their weak points. For instance, one way he could take down a pegasus was by restraining their forearms from behind, pulling them up until they stood on their hind feet, and pulling their wings up and outward until they were immobilized.

It gave him the curious thought of what weakness ponies found for creatures like him if they’d teach it through this term.

The move was easy for him to pull off, at least in a slow step-by-step process. When Scythe tried the same move on Gallus, he struggled to hook both of his hooves around Gallus’ arms and wings at the same time. While Gallus couldn’t feel his wings restrained or freeze, he played along anyway to avoid the loss of balance.

After some time had passed, the cadets had a chance to catch their breath. Although it was only their first-day doing combat battle training, the repeated impacts were enough for their bodies to ache.

Of course, that didn’t mean they were done for the day. “Attention!” bellowed Razorwing. “Now that you know some basics, you’re gonna use our remaining time to try out what you learn. You’re each gonna spar with one another,” he explained, as he looked around the nearly exhausted cadets. As the group sighed and slowly got back up, he added a small twist.

“You’re gonna choose a new cadet to spar with, I don’t want to see you with the same one you trained with.”

It figured that Razorwing didn’t want the same two ponies hanging around each other, Gallus guessed it helped with cadets not getting used to training around one person. It just meant Gallus had to act quickly to find a new partner to spar with, and quickly.

He turned to Scythe to ask who he was going to partner with, but the answer came with a large white hoof around the pegasus’ neck in a headlock. “Ay up Mumbles!” greeted Pound Sterling, in her thick accent as usual. “Ah’ll spar wi’ ja!”

Seeing her in her jovial tone, as if her energy hadn’t depleted, didn’t settle too well with the timid pegasus as he had a nervous and shaky smile on his face. It did give Gallus an idea of who he could pick, Lightning Dust. He looked around to see her stretching by the wall, warming herself up as she twisted her head and rolled her arms, and confidently made his approach.

“Hey, Lightning Dust” he called out. “Wanna pair up?”

Lightning Dust turned her head in surprise, being taken out of her warmup process so suddenly. When it came to his offer, she was moments from accepting it as her head raised to nod. That was until her eyes shifted away towards a certain cyan pegasus and drew a long and sinister grin. “Sorry Bluebird, I’ll join you next time,” she said with sincerity. “Today though, I’ve got plans.”

She lowered her head and narrowed her eyes as she bashed her forehooves together, gloating remarks made towards her were on her mind, and she was out for revenge. “Hey, Nicknames! Let’s pair up!” she called out, switched to a friendlier demeanour as she waved him down.

Nicknames, in blissful ignorance, smirked. “Oh yeah!” accepting the new challenge. “I’m so gonna look forward to this!” Gallus nervously decided to back away, considering it best to keep his distance from the two.

With Pound Sterling, Lightning Dust, and even Nicknames being taken, Gallus had to look for someone else. The only problem was, he looked around the platoon, and everypony else had another pony standing by already paired with them. He rubbed his chin, thinking there had to be one cadet still looking for a partner, knowing how each dorm room in their block held two cadets. That meant the platoon had to have an even number.

That was when he remembered Wind Breaker, the cadet who was discharged four weeks into the first term. With him gone, that meant the platoon had an odd number. Upon realizing it, he felt a worrying presence, he turned around to find the Staff Sergeant standing behind him.

Anxiety filled Gallus as it dawned on him what this meant, although he didn’t need to say the words, Razorwing said it for him. “Well, looks you’re the odd one out, Griffon.” On the positive side, Gallus had a partner to spar with.

---

All the ponies returned to the mat; each pair evenly spaced out from each other as to avoid colliding with other pairs. As they adjusted their gloves and helmets, and loosened their arms and prepared themselves, Razorwing laid out the rules. “Okay cadets, always stay on the mat, keep ya gloves and helmets on, if one of you taps out, the other steps away!” he listed out loud. “Apart from that, see what you’ve learned in one day. Begin!”

As if by command, the duels commenced. For some it was the same old song and dance, almost literally considering the effort the cadets went to grab onto the other to bring them to the floor, except with a different partner. For others, it looked no more different to a friendly brawl, each cadet trying to get a hit on the other.

It all looked fun, except for Gallus. He remained motionless as he stood in front of his senior instructor, who in turn stared him down with a snarl, which was unsettling for the griffon. “Okay, this can’t be too bad,” he quietly reassured himself. He glanced to the side and saw how his friends were doing.

On the one side, Scythe and Pound Sterling were having a pretty good time. Even for being the bigger and hard-hitting of the two, she also made things fair. Scythe was given as much of an opportunity to strike and grab his opponent as she did, and it was nice seeing him getting along with another pony in the process as they traded blows.

On the other side, Lightning Dust was having more fun with Nicknames than the other way around. “Uncle! Uncle!” he yelled, as Lightning Dust had the large pegasus pinned on his front, his wings and back held down by the mare’s body weight. “Somepony help!” he continued to yell, while other cadets were preoccupied.

“Oh, you earned this!” Lightning Dust elated as she dug one of her hooves into his skull.

“Is this because I made fun of you losing?!”

“Well, I’m not losing now, am I?”

“Eyes forward, Griffon!” Gallus twisted his head back towards Razorwing in response to his sharp command and saw his jaded eyes as having enough patience. “I’m not gonna let you stall this any longer, make your move.”

Gallus knew he had no other choice, he knew from the start of the exercise that Razorwing could be a rough fighter, but now with a little bit of training he was either going to deal with someone like Sterling or someone like Dust.

His approach was cautious, a few steps in before pausing to see how the stern sergeant would react. When there was no movement, he took a few steps more, paused and checked, but the sergeant remained standing tall like a statue.

When he got close enough, Gallus threw his fist towards Razorwing’s face. Sure enough, Razorwing blocked the fist and gave Gallus a full hoof as he bumped it into the griffon’s forehead. The feeling wasn’t painful, just irritating, compelling him to try again. So Gallus threw a punch to Razorwing’s chest, Razorwing blocked it and then tried to bump Gallus on the head again. Gallus saw it coming and pushed it aside with his arm, but unfortunately, his head was met with Razorwing’s other hoof.

It annoyed him further as he grimaced and groaned, wasting no time to dive towards Razorwing and hit him again. However, his attempts were futile, his punches were either blocked or parried, and eventually, he would get another hoof to the head. Exhausted, Gallus felt himself stumble and fall back onto the mat.

“Any more excuses, Griffon?” Razorwing asked, the question getting on Gallus’ nerves. “Don’t let your pride stop you from tapping out, at the moment you’re like an open book”.

Gallus’ eyes widened as he realised what Razorwing was doing, Razorwing waited for Gallus to make the first move, to counter with a weaker move to irritate and wear down the opponent. He recalled something similar from an old book on griffon combat, one of Grandpa Gruff’s books. It was certain now that his instructor prepared for a fight like this at the academy.

He took a step back, and a long deep breath, he needed to figure out how to avoid Razorwing from continuing the same strategy. Fortunately, he remembered another line from that book.

Griffons won battles by bringing the enemy to them, not the other way around, so when they were close enough, they could attack at the last moment.

Therefore, instead of going to Razorwing, Gallus needed Razorwing to come to him. He started by going back to the usual punch, knowing the sergeant would anticipate it. Except for this time, when Razorwing blocked it, Gallus quickly moved back, causing the stallion to miss his head even when he moved forward. Gallus did the same move again, and again, getting his opponent to move further and further until he tried to lunge at Gallus with both forehooves stretched out.

That was when Gallus did something different, he wrapped his arms around Razorwing’s head, jumped to put his paws on the stallion’s stomach, and used his body weight to pull down. Then, when Gallus’ back touched the floor, he stretched his legs up and outwards, the projection caused the stallion to flip over and land flat on his back.

Now the two were on the mat, one feeling much more of an impact than the other. Gallus was surprised that his trick worked but quickly realized his victory was short-lived. As he looked behind, and even when everything looked upside down, it was clear to him that Razorwing did not look happy when he got up. He was mad.

Knowing that the fight was still going, and with not much time to act, he quickly got himself up. With the sound of hoof steps charging close behind him, Gallus decided now was the time to try something griffons wouldn’t usually do.

He pushed his hind paws off the ground, curled his legs up as tight as they could go, squared up, and fired his paws towards Razorwing’s head. He didn’t care if his “bucks” weren’t strong enough, he just needed Razorwing to run right into them.

Too bad he didn’t, worse was that Razorwing instinctively dived underneath Gallus, and grabbed the griffon from underneath.

Gallus’s eyes grew wide, he remembered this as being the exact scenario Nicknames was in. He remembered how Nicknames was raised and rotated upside down and lost all his air when he was pressed to the ground with such force.

With a need to avoid that same scenario, he reacted by forcing his body into the opposite direction. Gallus raised his head and leant back as far as he could go, pushing his talons against Razorwing’s shoulders. Miraculously, it was working. Unlike Nicknames, who went forwards until he was upside down, Gallus went backwards until he was high in the air and vertical.

Razorwing, trying his best to keep control of the move, held on as hard as he could and tried to lean forward, but it ultimately proved too much for him. He lost his grip on Gallus, who slipped and landed on his hind paws with Razorwing stood bipedally in front of him.

With instinct from the prior training kicked in, Gallus hooked his arms around both Razorwing’s arms and wings, successfully restraining him on his hind hooves,

“Haha!” Gallus exclaimed, realizing he could claim victory against his instructor with a wide grin on his face.

The victory was short-lived, as Razorwing had one last trick up his flank. He countered Gallus’ restraint by using the last of his forearm strength to jab his elbows into both sides of Gallus’ ribcage.

The sudden jolt caused all the air to expel from Gallus’ lungs, his grip on Razorwing weakened and his balance faltered as he fell backwards, falling flat onto the mat beneath him. With Razorwing returning to standing on four hooves, the match was over.

“Attention! Stop sparring!” he yelled, causing the whole gym to fall silent. They all turned to see Razorwing standing by a winded Gallus, with the unaware cadets left with the impression that the former was the victor, much to the concern of Gallus’ close friends. “That’s our lesson done for the day, cool off, and go get your lunch. Dismissed.”

The cadets paused and murmured amongst their pairs, wondering how the match between the griffon and instructor went before the cadets made their way out the gym one by one, although a few concerned cadets were hesitant to leave their friend behind.

Meanwhile, Razorwing moved up to the motionless griffon, looking down and sighing with relief as he observed Gallus’ chest slowly expand and contract. He then leant down to Gallus’ ear to give a message. “I’ll let you have your moment, but you’ve still got a lot to learn, griffon.”

Gallus could hear his lowered voice, his grumble, the hint of humility to his words. It gave Gallus energy to smile and move his arms to slowly get himself back up. “Thank you, sir,” he replied snidely. Razorwing just stood by and huffed as Gallus took off his gloves and helmet.

As he made his way to the exit, Scythe and Pound Sterling waited by the door, with uneasy looks on their faces as Gallus walked with a subtle limp.

“Hey, you’re not hurt too bad, are you?” Scythe asked in a whisper.

The griffon stopped and looked at them with a smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m good” he answered with a conceited grin, before leaning in close to whisper something else. “I think I may have plucked a nerve.”

Author's Note:

Proofread by Javarod.

Comments

[Scyphi]

It didn’t take long for Gallus to guess that this new exercise looked like it would involve fighting with hooves, or in his case, claws.

This should be interesting, considering that Gallus has a few advantages (and I suppose disadvantages) that a pony would not. Given past trends thus far, I'm betting that hasn't been taken into full consideration for Gallus's sake as of yet.

“Alright, Officer Cadet Lightning Dust, get up here and show me.”

Yeah, of course Dusty's the one who's going to go first.

And the first one to taste exercise mat also.

Although the Gallus wasn’t given ‘special’ gloves for him,

I dunno guys, I'm thinking Gallus's ego might be catching up to him if he's starting to refer to himself as THE Gallus.

It was either that the kick he made wasn’t enough, or that what Razorwing advised him did work to some degree.

Probably the latter, since I don't see any reason why Razorwing's instructions wouldn't work just as well for a griffon as it would a pony, hooved or not.

“Sorry Bluebird, I’ll join you next time,” she said with sincerity. “Today though, I’ve got plans.”

In fairness, Nicknames was sort of asking for it earlier.

Razorwing said it for him. “Well, looks you’re the odd one out, Griffon.”

Admittedly, I was hoping that would happen. My opinion of Razorwing bounces back and forth at times, but today I'm thinking this could be a positive experience for both.

But we'll see.

[Teraunce]

Well I suppose that's one way to win a fight. Hopefully Gallus just earned some respect. Nice chapter.

[harts fire]

Gallus has the flexibility of a griffon and it is going to pay off when he really learns how to se it.

[Yoshifan30]

Wow that was a pretty cool chapter so it looks like the cadets are in combat training of course the staff sergeant didn't go easy on them especially on nicknames and Lightning Dust it was nice to see everybody learning some new moves especially for Gallus because he can't use his claws but at least he knows how to do combat a little it looks like the staff sergeant asking to pick a different spar and due to the odd numbers because what happened in the last chapter of what happened to the other one gallus is with staff sergeant which that would be unfair Advantage but in the battlefield nothing is fair but it looks like he did pretty well until the end still gallus did pretty good job I wonder what else is going to happen guess we'll find out next time

[Goldfur]

while you get free reign.

It is "free rein". It is an allusion to dropping a horse's reins to allow it to freely choose its path.