When the earth-dancing died down, Quanil hesitated uneasily, unsure that they weren't about to be ambushed. But the provost seemed to be done, and so they caught their breath gratefully. Patterns? I was doing patterns? But... thinking back on it... yeah, actually, they had been. Provost Silversmith is so amazing that he was teaching me and I didn't even realize it!! Not that they were surprised at their provost's skill or cleverness, of course. They just nodded and agreed to practice.
And then the earth rose up again, and Quanil instinctively danced back, holding the staff out between themselves and the... mudman? For a moment, memories of the Fiat Lux festival came back, but they snapped out of it. The mudman didn't move once it was finished rising to its set height, and they settled down.
And, as at the festival, the provost's calm voice and wise words instilled calm. Quanil resolved to investigate the physics of staff swinging at their earliest convenience, but shelved that to focus on this for now. They followed their teacher's demonstrated shifting of hand position.
...and they tried not to laugh at Provost Silversmith's trouble in retrieving the staff. They were swallowing down the mirth when he put himself forward as a target. "Hit YOU?" they repeated incredulously. But they were sure the provost could take care of himself, especially against someone like themselves. "O-okay."
He'd said something about "turn{ing} your body" during the swing? Quanil had no idea what that was about. They basically used the staff as a very long wooden sword and gave the sort of hacking chop that a child with a toy sword would do, though powered by more grown-up muscles. Quanil couldn't bear to put all their force into a swing against the Head of the Loreseekers' Guild, even knowing it would certainly be blocked or dodged, but they didn't want to give a weak swing either.
And then the earth rose up again, and Quanil instinctively danced back, holding the staff out between themselves and the... mudman? For a moment, memories of the Fiat Lux festival came back, but they snapped out of it. The mudman didn't move once it was finished rising to its set height, and they settled down.
And, as at the festival, the provost's calm voice and wise words instilled calm. Quanil resolved to investigate the physics of staff swinging at their earliest convenience, but shelved that to focus on this for now. They followed their teacher's demonstrated shifting of hand position.
...and they tried not to laugh at Provost Silversmith's trouble in retrieving the staff. They were swallowing down the mirth when he put himself forward as a target. "Hit YOU?" they repeated incredulously. But they were sure the provost could take care of himself, especially against someone like themselves. "O-okay."
He'd said something about "turn{ing} your body" during the swing? Quanil had no idea what that was about. They basically used the staff as a very long wooden sword and gave the sort of hacking chop that a child with a toy sword would do, though powered by more grown-up muscles. Quanil couldn't bear to put all their force into a swing against the Head of the Loreseekers' Guild, even knowing it would certainly be blocked or dodged, but they didn't want to give a weak swing either.
