The great Lord Vaerik, gratefully honored by ten thousand people, was currently playing with a wolf.
Cold Edge lay on the grass, ears twitching lightly, eyes focused, ready to await Vaerik's commands at any moment.
"Ambush."
Cold Edge silently slipped into the grass, his form like a silver-gray shadow, circling to the side and rear.
"Attack!"
He suddenly pounced out, biting the hanging cloth target and shaking it vigorously several times.
"Retreat!"
It quickly released its bite, nimbly turning and rushing back to Vaerik's side, movements clean and efficient without any excess.
After several months of training, Cold Edge could now skillfully understand almost all of Vaerik's commands.
Whether lurking, attacking, or guarding, he executed everything flawlessly.
Sometimes without even speaking, just a glance was enough for it to judge its master's intentions.
Of course, during these two months, it wasn't Vaerik training Cold Edge, but Aiger.
