It’s been a few days since The Triumphant Return, and Koa is ready to crawl out of his skin. The luster of being out of the wilds was brilliant and short-lived, and with each passing hour the initial relief of getting to safety ebbs steadily into terror at what might be happening back home. He can’t stand to stand around, and he doesn’t dare go to Stormbreak yet.
So the soldier does what he does best: he buries his fear, and trains.
It’s barely an hour after dawn, and the tiny island Koa’s found is isolated and still. Barely big enough for him to take more than a few steps, it’s a perfect place to practice stances: quiet, calm, but near enough to shore that he doesn’t need to fear being lost once more. He’s left his bag on a nearby, larger islet, under Pipsqueak’s watchful gaze, swimming to his little landmass with nothing more than the wraps on his hands and the trunks on his ass.
Now as the early light glitters on the water, Koa preps for his routine. He sent a message to Hadama, asking the King if he’d care to join for an early morning spar. He’ll find the young soldier in a slow stretch, his broad body leaner, sunken, clearly still struggling from malnourished months. But there’s cold steel alloyed in the copper of his eyes, a honed focus that’s older than he’d been a year before. Koa may still be young, but he’s no longer so naive. He’s stared evil in the face, and been defeated by it.
Next time, his swings won't miss.
So the soldier does what he does best: he buries his fear, and trains.
It’s barely an hour after dawn, and the tiny island Koa’s found is isolated and still. Barely big enough for him to take more than a few steps, it’s a perfect place to practice stances: quiet, calm, but near enough to shore that he doesn’t need to fear being lost once more. He’s left his bag on a nearby, larger islet, under Pipsqueak’s watchful gaze, swimming to his little landmass with nothing more than the wraps on his hands and the trunks on his ass.
Now as the early light glitters on the water, Koa preps for his routine. He sent a message to Hadama, asking the King if he’d care to join for an early morning spar. He’ll find the young soldier in a slow stretch, his broad body leaner, sunken, clearly still struggling from malnourished months. But there’s cold steel alloyed in the copper of his eyes, a honed focus that’s older than he’d been a year before. Koa may still be young, but he’s no longer so naive. He’s stared evil in the face, and been defeated by it.
Next time, his swings won't miss.
