[PQ] rub some dirt in it

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

Greetings and well wishes were passed around: her smile embracing the warmth and sundries of the halcyon moments. Though she was briefly distracted by Remi’s lion appearance and the giggling Aoife riding along, she gave a bright wave, before turning to the bard nearby. “Looks like it!” She grinned to Jigano, before placing her hands behind her back and listening raptly to Ronin’s proclamations and what he deigned to do. The youth was encouraged by the notion of a training center, a place where she could pour her heart and soul; and the tasks didn’t sound quite so bad. To be honest, she’d would’ve cherished the weapon cleaning, simply to get a look at their wares and munitions, become fascinated and rapt no matter how dirty or tarnished – things that used to slay, used to maim, used to be something to demonstrate power, prestige, and prowess. But before she had an opportunity to express her interest, it was snagged, and then the fence pounding was taken by the taller, quiet man, leaving her with the remnants: hay bales. “Targets it is!” She proclaimed with a fist pump and a salute to Ronin. The youth bent down for a moment, listening to Jigano encouraging his gryphlet to acquaint themselves with Fangorn. “Want to try?” It was a whisper, a quiet murmuring in case the gourd had no indication or want to meet with the winged creature. It seemed Isuma was just as tentative, for while Fangorn nestled his way to her ankles again, it maneuvered and crept, chirruping little greetings, giving the pumpkin a chance to peek around her presence and look somewhat curious. The honeybee girl rolled her eyes and stepped aside, leaving them to mull and process things, while she adhered to her assignment, rolling up her sleeves, putting on her gloves, and rampaging towards the first of the hay bales. It wasn’t terribly rugged work, just enough to be awkward with a large bale at her side, but she tugged at the strings and lifted one with hushed aplomb, using this opportunity to strengthen her muscles, to coil potential in her abdomen and work on her core with some slow, methodical breaths. Once she’d lugged one to a certain area, she did the same to the next, and the next, journeying along the flattened plain. Eventually, once she’d acquired three, she stacked them, a larger, more imposing, easier target, and then, despite her arms growing a little weary, the girl continued to administer her efforts. One by one, she trickled along, sweat beading across her brow and down her neck, placing two stacked in the middle, a little farther away from the first, and then finally, a lonely little soul, the farthest back, proffering a distinct challenge to anyone who thought they were skilled with a bow. She eyed it, considering its venue, before advancing along the others. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe