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"So...what do I do now?"

"Hold on to the branch, charge in, then leash out!!"

"Okay..."

I leashed out from the top of the tree, kicking away from the tree, and came rushing to the ground in less than a second. The sharp breeze went around me, nothing stopping me. I felt unstoppable then coming down.

"Good job..." Quilo commented. "Try having a claw out front. With that, nothing will see it coming." I thought about it for a moment, seeing how that would come out.

"Let's try it," I suggested. He nodded, and took a cloak from his paw. I jumped up to the tree, and, before even climbing even higher, leashed down as Quilo tossed the cloak in midair. My paw was only showing a five-paw; the cloak exploded upon contact.

"Good enough..." he commented, "Just try actually clawing instead of just a paw in the face, it might give a kill." I didn't respond to his suggestion, I only nodded. "...Or at least a good beating." I laughed at his remark. "What? I'm serious! You'll never know when it could help out."

"Alright, I get you..." I responded.

"If you ever go back to your community," he added, "You could use it in your favor." I had to think about it for a minute, thinking on how it'll go. Someone attacking me? At a youth? None of my friends would do it, nor would their parents. Who else would?

"...If it'll ever happen..." I remarked.

"...Right.... 'if'. Hey, you'll never know. But in your case, it will happen."

"Whatever...What makes you say so, anyway?"

He shrugged and answered, "I don't know, but I feel like it will happen...to where the misfortune has started... Where you from again? The forest?"

"Yeah--"

"That's where it'll start. The forest--your home--your original home that you once played and cared for--"

"Okay, I get the idea. Why don't you teach me how to fight then?"

"I thought I just did..." He did. I didn't know what he called it, but I called it Paw Drop. "Maybe someone else could help you out."

"You know anyone?" I asked.

"Who, me? Hell no, I just know you. I meant in the future, you might find someone who should help you learn how to fight."

"But I'm not the fighting type..."

"With that as your only defense, you think your opponent would care?" He had a point. "Nowadays, words are meaningless unless you're fighting with those words. Speaking out a meaningful speech for the opponent to understand for will only get you a kick to the face, a fist to the stomach, or a kick to the stomach and a throw to the concrete." He brushed his white hair, shining a silver-ish grey against the light that could reach down upon. "I can't teach you much, but just the basics to get by: a few jabs and hooks, and maybe an uppercut or two."

I stared at him, at the time, wondering what he meant by 'jabs', 'hooks', and 'uppercut'. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He asked, with no emotion in his question. I nodded. "...You're more worse that I could imagine..." He walked up to me, eye to eye, as we were the day before. "Well time for you to learn what those are." He swung his right arm, punching me in the face. I almost fell down, but I quickly stepped back up.

"Ah..." I stressed out in pain, "What the hell was that for?" I asked.

"First lesson: the hook. The first move pulled by instinct in a fight." He swung again with the same arm. I ducked and back away, he only stepping forward. "The hook relies more on the muscle of your arm than the speed of your arm. The second hook will always be of your opposite arm, and will rely on more of speed to--" He swung with his other arm, "--get the hit!!" He swung faster the second hook than he did on his first. I couldn't dodge fast enough; the pain was more than the first hit. I wasn't spitting out blood, at least.

"Block with your arm!!" He yelled out. He swung again, with his right arm this time. I blocked with my forearm. Not knowing what to do next. I pushed it back, not noticing that he swung with his other arm. I spun to the ground, getting up slowly. "Get your guard up, Leon! No one's gonna stop for you!!" He swung again, I blocking it with my forearm again. I pushed it back and punched forward. He used his other paw to hold my fist, and kicked me back enough to be a tail length away.

He punched forward, no hook this time, punching me on the chest. "The jab," he said. He jammed me again, and again after that. I couldn't block with the pain outside of me. "The jab relies on the speed of your arm rather than your muscle." He jabbed on 3 more times; I dodged the first jab, but couldn't get around for the next two. It wasn't as painful as the hooks, at least. "Raise your forearms in front of you--know where the next jab will swing by; less pain will be taken there."

I quickly raised my arms in front of my muzzle, not knowing where he was going to jab. The second I did, he quickly jabbed at my arms, feeling less pain there. I quickly maneuvered down and jabbed him twice in the stomach.

"Ach--!" he yelled out. "Now you're talking..." After the second jab, I quickly pulled a hook. He blocked with his forearm, and kicked at my left ground paw. I tripped down, quickly getting back up. "Kicking may not be for everyone..." he started, "not for me really, but it would come in handy. Like now for instance." He almost swung forward, but kicked my same ground paw instead. I quickly recovered from the trip, only to get kicked in the face. "See what I mean?" I looked down to the ground, seeing some red spots on the ground, still moist.

Blood. From my nose. "Oh, a little blood coming out won't hurt you," he said. "C'mon, get up! You really think people are gonna stop at First Blood?" I stood up and got to fighting position, not holding any bars. I ran forward and pulled a few jabs at him, Quilo just blocking them all. I swung with my left arm, it actually hit him. I kicked his ground paw in the same fashion he did, and punched him back up to his paws. "Ach..." he stressed out, "Quickly learning the uppercut. Don't do those often, those are the strongest of the three...only because it can easily knock an opponent off course."

--

We "fought" for several more minutes before taking a break. Both of us were practically bruised up; I was the only one who was bleeding. I collapsed to the ground the second we stopped.

"Well..." Quilo started, "I was probably rough on ya for a bit--"

"You think?" I stressed out.

"...Yeah, but it was worth it. At least you know what to expect from a fight." I had to think about it for a minute.

"...Yeah, I guess you're right." I didn't see what Quilo did next, but he tossed me some cotton at me.

"There," he started, "use it to cover up the blood from your nose. Don't move your head up." I did as he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine..." I kind of was; other than be bruised, I was a little fine. He didn't kill me and I learned something or two.

"Just don't forget what I just taught you," Quilo said, "You'll need it." He took out something round, metallic. It was small, and seemed lightweight seeing he had no trouble taking it out from the bushes.

"...What is it?" I asked in a low voice.

"Just a radio player," Quilo answered, "its kinda old school, but it works better than used." He turns a knob on the radio player, turning on. "Thank God for being wireless and solar power rechargeable." He doesn't change the station as he leaves it on.

The radio was halfway up to volume. "Estas oyendo--listening to... El Ser. Ciento cuatro, punto nueve--one o' four point nine...Pop--en español; pop en español."

Apparently it played pop in Spanish.

"Good station," Quilo commented, "Good enough since I understand the language." I didn't respond to him, only taking care of the blood in my nostril.

The song that played started with a little drum solo, then some dialogue. "Que grande es mi razón que estar contigo...y cuanto falta le haces a este corazón..." The music was at a slow tone.

"Ah, this one," Quilo started, "Good song. It also best fits your situation right now." I didn't do anything but listen to the song. It was on the starting chorus of the song.

"Yo te necesito...a cada momento solo pienso en ti-- Lo digo y lo grito...aun solo eres que me hace feliz. Yo te necesito... Amor como este sentido jamás-- Espera tu unido. Mi vida es más vacía si a qua tu no estas."

_ _ I didn't understand the words the singer was singing, but it made me feel sad inside, as if he were singing what I want to say right now. I didn't comment to the song; I only listened to what he has to say...

"...Me siento perdido...entre lo escondido. Se alargan mis horas, mi alma, te ayora-- y me hace decir... Que te necesito. Que nada es posible en mi vida sin ti. Regresa te pido... mis lagrimas faltan si lloran por ti."

I didn't know it then, but Quilo was staring at me, seeing at what I was feeling. He knew what I was feeling. I was longing for Jake. He didn't know who he was, but he knew I was longing for someone.

"...Regresa te pido...mis lagrimas lloran por ti. Yo te necesito." The song was nearing its end.

The host of the radio station was on air near the end of the song, fading out. "'Yo Te Necesito', 'I Need You' in Spanish by Los Bukis." He spoke quite fast during the briefing between songs. "During the hour request, this song has been requested by one who chose to be anonymous while requesting. His reason for the song was not to get for someone they loved for, but to get across another he would soon meet to know.

"Well whoever you are, I hope you got them emotionally compromised because another song similar to it will come on now! Este es El Ser_, Ciento-cuatro punto nueve--One o' four point nine: _Pop en Español."