“When snow sweeps over the land a carver must use his delicate hands… Do you know what this saying means young lad?...”. These words were spoken by a wise old carver, who had encountered a sudden pest. His intuition was telling him that this lad could be promising.

There was definitely something about those blazing eyes of his that drew him in, and yet at the same time repelled his desires to give this boy a chance. It was the glint of starvation that made the carver worried. He didn’t like desperate people… They were always the most annoying ones to deal with…

Seeing how the boy didn’t know what to answer, he nagged, “Basically we carvers are absurdly busy during winter! The lord expects us to define art and make new masterpieces for them to admire, when all they can do is sip soup at home. So, why exactly do you think I would have enough time to give some of it to a snot-nosed kid like yourself? Hmm?”.

The carver inspected the boy before him. He knew that provoking someone was the fastest way to reveal their true character... The young man before him seemed hurt by his comment. Seeing this made the carver sigh deeply while he thought: This wasn’t a wolf he was dealing with as he had feared. This was a little puppy...

The carver smirked and said, “Well, well… Young lad… What’s ya name?”. Joss immediately bowed his head slightly and answered with determination, “It’s Joss, Sir! Joss Castonale…”. As if the carver couldn’t get any ruder, he grabbed the boy’s hands without permission and began feeling them. Joss was shocked but let the expert do what he saw fit.

“The names Jarolf… And these hands… Hmmm… At least you’re not a complete greenhorn”. Jarolf scratched his bearded chin while mumbling, “A lil pup with old hands”. Then he took his tools and made Joss hold them. He inspected how the boy held them and placed his fingers around their curves. “Not bad…”, Jarolf commented.

“Listen here, lil Joss. Carve me your heart’s desire… If I see any worth in it I’ll take you in as my apprentice. Otherwise, I expect you to scram… You have until spring to finish your piece… And don’t start barking if I forget your name… Your not the first to take this test of mine… Now run along!”. When the boy before him suddenly started brimming with glee, the carver felt smitten. He usually didn’t like people, especially not young ones. But this kid… He wouldn’t mind teaching this brat if he had the talent.

Before Joss left, the master gave him an odd piece of wood. Its color was reddish and dark. It had a texture that was good at showing flaws and the technique wielded by the carver. Perfect for testing aspiring apprentices.

Joss was seldom seen since he got the assignment. He spent his entire time working for the family. And if there was a hole in his schedule he would be carving on his ticket to a better life…

Without it, he couldn't hope to run a household without Jacqueline’s help. Someone he desperately wanted gone.

****

A week had passed since William’s tenth birthday. It was a foggy morning with mist pouring into the castle as if it was a cauldron. And it was mostly silent, as birds had migrated towards warmer places... During this time of day, you would often see Brice...

Brice flicked his fingers, impatiently staring at the stable with dinosaurs resting in it. It was a daily occurrence for him. Therefore none was surprised to see his noble self buzzing around the place. And exactly why was he there? Well, it was his special form of medication. That helped him suppress the urge he had to wander out and risk his life for another bond.

Such a thought was unacceptable and he knew it by heart. No matter what, he had to resist the temptation and remain resilient. For being a parent to a dinosaur of the fire-breathing kind, was not a personal desire of his but a strong family tradition. It was in his heritage and in his name…

Something clanky interrupted his morning loathing. It was a small page, wearing what was clearly worn hand-me-downs armor… Somehow seeing this miserable loser made Brice brighten up a bit. As he comforted himself, that at least someone else seemed to be more miserable than him.

William didn’t really mind that Brice looked down on him. When it came to it, that kid was just spoiled and bored from having his hobby taken away. Along with some dignity and etc. But did it really concern William? He confirmed this to himself with a big fat: Nope.

When he reached the training grounds, he was surprised to see the other pages flock around a sole individual. A new recruit had come to practice. Someone of great importance and noble heritage: Avian. The boy stood in light armor with cinnamon-brown hair that curled around his ears. He held an aura of indifference.

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Avian was like Brice, one who had bonded with a dinosaur from a young age. He was ten now but still a page. Thus he was pushed over to train with the others.

Many of the pages surrounding him were not bonded. This was due to a lack of expertise and training. These pages simply weren’t ready yet for such an undertaking.

Somehow this fact only made William admire Joss and Harvick even more. It really motivated him to have been surrounded by such excellent peers from childhood. Completely changing his view of what is normal and what is mediocre.

The young noble talked with the instructor. He was afraid that these classes would make him become more of a mentor instead of a sparring-partner, because of the huge gap in strength. The instructor called Solomon appeased the boy. Promising him that if he could beat all the pages on the team, he would be allowed to train with the squires.

This challenge Avian accepted without hesitation, thinking it would be a piece of cake. He glanced around at his surroundings to find the first victim. To optimize his warm-up-session he would like to start out fighting the weakest, then finish off with the strongest page in the vicinity. So Avian took a wild guess and pointed his glove at William. A page that looked especially weak and penniless compared to the others. “Then I want to challenge this here fellow first”.

William felt everyone's gaze turn on him. It made him gulp down a hard lump.

The instructor couldn’t help but smile as he said, “Excellent choice. I’ve always felt that William needed some new blood to compete against”. Avian thought he heard wrong and so he asked, “What are you implying, Sir?”. Solomon crossed his arms and stated, “That person there, is one of our best pages so far. He might not look like much but his technique is worthy of praise”.

Avian was still not comprehending the sounds that tried to penetrate his thick skull. This meaker looking little runt was supposed to be a challenge? Solomon flung a dull sword and shield towards William and said, “Go on… Don’t keep the young lord waiting”.

William took a firm hold of the items. Underneath his helmet, two pairs of eyes burned fiercely. For there was no way he was going to go easy on this noble! He was sure there would be no repercussions if he should win, therefore he used his all in battling Avian.

The other youngster casually got into position. Surely his strength and senses were much greater as a bonded, so there was nothing to worry about.

A bonded fighting against a non-bonded can be compared to a wolf fighting against a human. Both can hurt and ruin the other. But when the wolf bites the human can only count on luck and reflexes to evade. When the wolf sprints, the human must not turn their back against it. Neither can they hope to flee…

So to confine the wolf and avoid its speed, the human must trick it. William went endlessly around Avian in circles. Not that it was obvious. He made it seem very natural as if it was only to dodge and escape his jabs. It might have sounded simple, but although Avian’s strikes weren’t very accurate and well-developed yet, they were faster than the eye.

With each missed jab, the audience of pages rallied and cried in excitement. It was amazing how a non-bonded human could actually dodge these attacks! This was all thanks to William’s excellent fighting instincts that he had been used to since his former life, coupled with lots of practice in reading the opponent.

His footwork made him stable and able to evade from any angle thus far. But this wasn’t enough. He couldn’t keep dancing around Avian forever!

Avian was still clueless to his antics. Usually, this noble won just with brute force and a well-placed strike, but this little page he faced was slippery as heck! During the entire match, he unintentionally stood in place not moving a centimeter from his spot. The wolf was cornered. Again and again, it snapped out to wound but missed. Seeing these repeated attacks, William soon found a pattern to them. And there! He finally managed to swipe the opponent's weapon by using a swift circle movement. He followed the flow of power to make it easier to wield the blade out of Avian’s grip. An old but useful tactic.

The glinting piece of steel flew out of Avian’s hand and he stood left in shock. This had never happened to him before! It lasted a second, yet this flaw was enough for William to exploit. He used his favorite attack: Bashy-bashy! It’s real simple and makes William laugh every time, hence the silly name.

First: Take your shield. Second: Put all your weight into it and then head towards the enemy. But of course, there’s a little trick to it! You can’t fell your opponent by just bashing them with your weight and a wooden board. In truth, it mostly acts as a diversion and shield for the enemy’s eyes. What you do, is that you without the enemy’s notice, slip your tippy-toe in between their legs and see a wonderful tackle come to life. This sudden combination of skill and surprise was enough to bash Avian’s head into the ground.

To make his finish valid, William took his blade and directed it at the disgruntled youth’s throat. Now Avian was at his mercy lying all cozy in the dirt.

William felt extremely proud of himself. To think he actually accomplished such a feat. The students that stood around them were very impressed and clapped to express their joy. They didn’t find William’s win to be unfair or foolish, on the contrary, they admired his reaction speed and how easy he made it look.

Although Avian had lost he was clearly not easy pickings. He had merely committed the fatal flaw of underestimating his opponent. It wouldn’t be to anyone's surprise if William were to lose the next match. But this rematch wouldn’t take place on the same day.

To show gratitude and the necessary formalities, William held out his hand for Avian to grab. He helped up the kid and said, “Haha, did you like my bash? I’ve been practicing it like crazy… But surely it won’t work next time”.

Avian stumbled up on his feet and rubbed the area that had taken the impact from his fall, “I do really find it an honor to have been gifted such a… Welcome… What was your name again?”.

William was slightly surprised that Avian took this defeat so well, unlike some other nobles he knew…