You will never do anything in this world without courage.
Zavien could understand 'working' on things. He himself had chosen to work through his fears like some kind of chink in his armor, hardening and strengthening around it so the link might not cause a collapse of the structure (ie him). So, it didn't surprise him that Alys might do the same, finding ways to mend her own pains.
Smiling softly, he kneaded nervously at his hands. "Well... I wish her luck. And if she ever wants to talk..." He didn't know how much use he would be; he wasn't the best with words. But maybe it would help to talk with someone else who'd been there, if she hadn't already. He'd only spoken to Soh, and she hadn't known about his death, so it wasn't exactly a 'transparent' conversation about events.
Luckily, fighting didn't involve a lot of talking, and he could push through whatever fog of emotions still clogged his brain. Nodding his head at Tal's request for defense, he made one last stretch of his arms while hiding the subtle wince from the scarring at his side. "Works for me." Zavien pulled his sword from its sheath as his friend gave a teasing taunt. Chuckling, he shook his head. "Okay, but don't let it touch you. I don't want you to get burned." He lowered it to the ground for emphasis, the patch of snow by his feet sizzling as it melted.
Once Tal showed he was ready, Zavien slid into his stance. It felt a little more awkward than before, still familiar but tense. He had to shift his weight to dispel the cobwebs that seemed to drape around him before working through the practiced movement of a side strike. The movement was slow, testing, easing into the spar.
Smiling softly, he kneaded nervously at his hands. "Well... I wish her luck. And if she ever wants to talk..." He didn't know how much use he would be; he wasn't the best with words. But maybe it would help to talk with someone else who'd been there, if she hadn't already. He'd only spoken to Soh, and she hadn't known about his death, so it wasn't exactly a 'transparent' conversation about events.
Luckily, fighting didn't involve a lot of talking, and he could push through whatever fog of emotions still clogged his brain. Nodding his head at Tal's request for defense, he made one last stretch of his arms while hiding the subtle wince from the scarring at his side. "Works for me." Zavien pulled his sword from its sheath as his friend gave a teasing taunt. Chuckling, he shook his head. "Okay, but don't let it touch you. I don't want you to get burned." He lowered it to the ground for emphasis, the patch of snow by his feet sizzling as it melted.
Once Tal showed he was ready, Zavien slid into his stance. It felt a little more awkward than before, still familiar but tense. He had to shift his weight to dispel the cobwebs that seemed to drape around him before working through the practiced movement of a side strike. The movement was slow, testing, easing into the spar.
Zavien
It is the greatest quality of mind next to honor.
