Ianto
"...Ah. Well, when you put it like that, I feel probably just as stupid as I looked doing it," Ianto points out, rubbing at the back of his head and shaking his coppery curls out of his face, as if he might be able to look anything other than half-feral and having just dragged himself out of his fox shift for the first time in days. Still, he listens keenly to the instructions, adjusting his grip on the staff and trying to ignore the tension they can both feel rippling out from Remi.
Nodding at the remark to try again, Ianto shifts his stance and tightens his hold on the staff. Still, he's clearly not built for fighting (not unless Arduinna drugs the shit out of him), and so as Remi sweeps his legs out from under him, down he goes like a sack of shit. He does keep a solid grip on the staff this time, though, trying to drag it out of Remi's hands so he can swing it at him as he hits the deck on his back.
Nodding at the remark to try again, Ianto shifts his stance and tightens his hold on the staff. Still, he's clearly not built for fighting (not unless Arduinna drugs the shit out of him), and so as Remi sweeps his legs out from under him, down he goes like a sack of shit. He does keep a solid grip on the staff this time, though, trying to drag it out of Remi's hands so he can swing it at him as he hits the deck on his back.
