So caught up in the whirl of steel and feathers was the bard that he hadn't noticed the approach of another person. The beating of black wings and the ping of stones and bits of shell and bone amidst the feathers had taken all of his attention, and not until Ronin spoke did Jigano turn smoothly to face the voice that was unfamiliar in its hoarseness. The crows cawed and swirled around him, a shield of black bodies and blurring wings, sound and movement that hid his own.
The voice might not have been familiar, but the man who stood sipping from his waterskin was, and Jigano relaxed, releasing his crows with a grateful wave to go rest and hunt bugs nearby. Ronin was in fine form, despite his tiredness - or rather, his form was fine, aesthetically pleasing, the bard decided with a distracted portion of his mind, considering how good the other man would look on a dancefloor. He paused to sheath his blade, taking the reminder to pad to his own pack beside the bridge and retrieve a waterskin and a collapsible bowl. He poured some into the bowl first, setting on the side of the bridge for his murder to drink from before allowing himself the pleasure of a few refreshing mouthfuls while he considered Ronin's offer.
"If I had Remi or Deimos's skills I'd make you a sword," he offered wryly, grinning at the suggestion. "But we had discussed trading specialties at some point. If you'd care to teach me a bit of fisticuffs today I can try and return the favor with swords another time." With a nod to himself of a man coming to a decision he unbuckled his sword belt and laid the weapon beside his pack, releasing his crows from his mental control as he stepped towards the center of the bridge and Ronin, holding up his bare hands.
"So, how should we begin? I'm fairly good at dodging, at least, if you want to throw the first punch," he teased, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet in a fencer's stance, though his sword arm was held a little awkwardly in front of him without a weapon to fill it.
The voice might not have been familiar, but the man who stood sipping from his waterskin was, and Jigano relaxed, releasing his crows with a grateful wave to go rest and hunt bugs nearby. Ronin was in fine form, despite his tiredness - or rather, his form was fine, aesthetically pleasing, the bard decided with a distracted portion of his mind, considering how good the other man would look on a dancefloor. He paused to sheath his blade, taking the reminder to pad to his own pack beside the bridge and retrieve a waterskin and a collapsible bowl. He poured some into the bowl first, setting on the side of the bridge for his murder to drink from before allowing himself the pleasure of a few refreshing mouthfuls while he considered Ronin's offer.
"If I had Remi or Deimos's skills I'd make you a sword," he offered wryly, grinning at the suggestion. "But we had discussed trading specialties at some point. If you'd care to teach me a bit of fisticuffs today I can try and return the favor with swords another time." With a nod to himself of a man coming to a decision he unbuckled his sword belt and laid the weapon beside his pack, releasing his crows from his mental control as he stepped towards the center of the bridge and Ronin, holding up his bare hands.
"So, how should we begin? I'm fairly good at dodging, at least, if you want to throw the first punch," he teased, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet in a fencer's stance, though his sword arm was held a little awkwardly in front of him without a weapon to fill it.
