A late bloomer by any definition, Hadama had only just begun to come into his people’s magic. It was still so weak that it was barely perceptible in the ocean where tide and current hid and obscured his efforts, so he had come topside at the shore of the Isles to practice with it, a mere stone’s throw from one of the beaches. Practice makes perfect was a saying as much under the ocean as on dry land and he had certainly done so in the past. Now those habits would hopefully stand him in good stead as he worked to increase his control and distance.
But at the moment both were limited and it was a good thing that Hadama was a patient man as he drew a small amount of water up out of the ocean and traced a figure eight with it through the air, a look of intense concentration on his face as the liquid wobbled and flowed through the patterns he set it. So deep was his focus, he wouldn't notice anyone approaching from the land side unless they announced themselves.
But at the moment both were limited and it was a good thing that Hadama was a patient man as he drew a small amount of water up out of the ocean and traced a figure eight with it through the air, a look of intense concentration on his face as the liquid wobbled and flowed through the patterns he set it. So deep was his focus, he wouldn't notice anyone approaching from the land side unless they announced themselves.
