Are
Sunrise, and a cobbler with the gall to call himself a warrior rose with it. A pack of boiled leather pieces and the stuffed knapsack already waiting by the door, waiting for a certain someone to shirk the calling of his old craft to hone his new. An hone it he would. Swift steps through the cold Leafchange morning towards grounds more suited to a whole day of training than those of his half sunken home. A workshop pretending to be a home pretending to be a training ground was no place for one with barely enough skill to not hurt himself, let alone hurt an opponent. So off to the guild he went.
There was more movement than he had expected, people already throwing up a little dust from the now almost stone-like hard packed dirt. That feeling of being an impostor, out of place, always managed to nestle itself in amongst the myriad of other little doubts, gnawing away at his conscious. A feeling he knew far too well to be hoping that it would ever go away, so instead he ran. A few laps to make it seem like he knew what he was doing, to get the blood going and take the ever prying looks off him. To make him just another one in the crowd, even if he tended to poke a bit over it.
The long padded jacket finally felt as it was in it's element, comfortable even, in the cool morning. Warm enough to keep him from freezing but not so much that it left him a panting puddle of sweat. Blessed be the breeze that touched the training grounds, he thought as he started to strap on hardened leather, making ready for sparring, but with what partner? Last time didn't exactly serve him well and he was hankering for a rematch, but thankfully the Draugr seemed to shun the slowly rising sun so instead Are was left looking around for someone hankering for a bout or two.
Cera
There was more movement than he had expected, people already throwing up a little dust from the now almost stone-like hard packed dirt. That feeling of being an impostor, out of place, always managed to nestle itself in amongst the myriad of other little doubts, gnawing away at his conscious. A feeling he knew far too well to be hoping that it would ever go away, so instead he ran. A few laps to make it seem like he knew what he was doing, to get the blood going and take the ever prying looks off him. To make him just another one in the crowd, even if he tended to poke a bit over it.
The long padded jacket finally felt as it was in it's element, comfortable even, in the cool morning. Warm enough to keep him from freezing but not so much that it left him a panting puddle of sweat. Blessed be the breeze that touched the training grounds, he thought as he started to strap on hardened leather, making ready for sparring, but with what partner? Last time didn't exactly serve him well and he was hankering for a rematch, but thankfully the Draugr seemed to shun the slowly rising sun so instead Are was left looking around for someone hankering for a bout or two.
