Zavier's elation crashed down at the error. He framed a desire to know why and he was given an impression that there were skills that he didn't have any knowledge of trying to be copied. His frustration mounted and he thought "Why won't you just tell me what I need to do?"
He heard the clicking of a pen in his mind and understood that the plethora of skills in the system weren't barred from him, he just needed further understanding to develop them. He moved his thoughts to his recent experiences, remembering the Bouchards and the way they gained experience with abilities without obtaining the levels required for additional skills. He pressed that and the options bloomed in his mind.
His use of the pen as a light pushed him towards skills that could create light without needing the focus of an item like the pen. Even that, though, was a seed that branched off into other options that could use light like a guiding force, an attack, or even the ability to see in the dark without a light.
Using the gauntlet seeded him with the potential for becoming a tech savant, while fighting the wooded creatures could enable him to follow a woodsman or hunter path that branched into skills that would allow him to stalk through the woods like a cat and kill with abandon.
He scanned through all the possible paths until he found one that stood out to him. It resonated in his soul and left him feeling giddy.
"Path of the Polyglot: This path is given to those who have shown a remarkable ability to cross classes and boundaries, being beholden to no set path but able to jump between all. This path highlights the person's desire to adapt to any situation and use whatever is in front of them. It's a difficult path since it is not focused on one particular aspect or set of skills, but can provide the user with remarkable adaptability and knowledge of anything they choose to learn."
** WARNING: If not managed properly or if the user does not obtain the necessary intelligence to learn the multitude of possible skills, the user may become functionally inept due to having too many low quality skills without the necessary requirements to upgrade them. **
Zavier smiled widely at this. He could never be accused of being short of confidence in his ability to learn new skills, and this was a mirror to what he already did in his life. He'd learned to paint because it seemed fun, then went on to study Rubik's Cubes, then cooking. He'd picked up multiple instruments in his youth and made a study of learning as many languages as he could. It felt like this was tailor made for him.
The added benefit is that the starting skill seed for this had a lot of options for learning new abilities, but after reviewing them there was only one that truly stood out to him.
Jack of all Blades: This skill allows someone to use any item as a weapon with great proficiency. This skill works in reverse from most skills, though, as it allows the person to use a weapon at the highest ability their current level and skills allow the first time using a new item but has diminishing returns the longer they use it. The more often that item is used the less proficient the person becomes in it until they reach the base level of an untrained person.
The skill resets at each level.
Zavier looked into the branches of that skill but could only see one level deeper. He was relieved to see that one of the next branches offered an option to take one weapon as a chosen weapon, with which he'd be able to gain experience and skill with that in the traditional way. This would hamper his training with the chain in the short term but would provide a lot of flexibility going forward. The world was full of improvised weapons and he had a cache of them in his garage.
Zavier went to work with the pen and in a short time he was able to scribe the skill into his data. He double and triple checked to make sure there were no mistakes, then it occurred to him that he didn't have to figure this out on his own. He sent out a mental desire for a double check and there was a pause before an audible click sounded in his mind. He checked the skill and realized that all of his experience with everything he'd used up to this point had been reset to zero. His giddiness returned when he realized he was currently an expert in everything he had on him.
He opened his eyes and saw Maisy curled into a ball, her nose tucked under her tail. One eye was open, though, watching him with the patience of cats everywhere. He climbed to his feet and said "Welp, I have some experience to regain."
She stood, stretched languidly, then snapped her jaws shut and moved next to him. It was time to hunt.
The Training of a Dumb Kitten
Maisy stepped in front of Zavier and pushed her tail against him in a clear signal to stop. He looked down at her and she stepped aside, then gently placed a paw on his foot. Then she slowly moved the paw forward and gently set it on the ground. He reached down to pet her but the tail whipped his hand away in an irritated gesture. She repeated the motion and he realized that she was trying to tell him something. He watched closely and noticed that she placed her paw down on the ball of her foot. Wait, did cats have a ball of the foot? Zavier didn't know, but he understood the lesson. He had been stepping heel-first and hadn't paid any attention to the noise he was making. Was she teaching him to walk silently?
He stepped backwards then took a gentle step forwards, leaning into it and stepping lightly on the ball of his foot. Her eyes didn't leave his feet as he took another step, then another. He must have done it correctly because she turned and padded silently into the woods. Obviously meant to follow, he moved forward slowly, trying to get used to the odd feeling of stepping on the front of his foot rather than the heel.
They walked in silence, Zavier getting more and more comfortable with this strange way of moving. He realized that this was only uncomfortable if he stood upright, so he adopted a more hunched pose, trying to incorporate the feline grace that Maisy was displaying with careless ease.
Without warning she halted and flicked his face with her tail. He stumbled to a stop, trying not to make any noise as he did. Her back was slightly arched and the fur on her scruff had fluffed up. He looked where she was facing and saw another wolf, this one lying in repose with a casual but alert look. Her tail thumped his chest in a motion he took to mean 'Wait. Watch,' then she moved into the clearing in a blur. The wolf saw her at the last moment but it was too late to respond. She leapt over it and twisted in mid-air, clamping her jaw down on the back of its neck and pinning its front paws down with her claws. Her rear legs came up and slashed savage gashes down the sides of its neck and shoulders. It bucked under her but the severed shoulder muscles had made its front legs useless. It continued to try to rise with its hind legs but she held on. She looked to make sure Zavier was watching then, without letting go with her jaws, extended her front claws and pulled them smoothly through the tough fur at its neck and up to its spine. It crumpled with a whimper, deep red blood looking black in the moonlight as it flowed out of its neck. She stepped off of it lightly and padded towards him, then touched his foot and extended her claws.
"What are you trying to tell me?" he asked.
She gave an impatient huff, then extended her claws again. Realization dawned on him and he looked down at the makeshift Wolverine claw he had at his belt. He slid it onto his hand and she sat contentedly, licking her paws clean.