There wasn't space for Tal to join the General in repairing the dummy, so he stepped a little ways away and hefted the spear again. While his friend worked, the courier took practice thrusts at falling snow flurries, trying to recapture that moment when hips and shoulders had come together to generate enough force to punch through the target's stuffing. Practicing slowly and then speeding up at least made the movements look smoother and more intentional, and less like enthusiastic (or panicked) flailing.
He paused when Deimos stood up, and managed to hold back his first response to the question. He looked up at the grey Deepfrost sky and rolled his shoulders, checking the looseness of his muscles before he exhaled a puff of breath into the chilly air. Meeting his friend's eyes he gave a lopsided grin. "Yeah. The movement drill again?" Setting his stance wider and putting the spear on guard he watched the dummy with pale, keen eyes, waiting for its charge.
He paused when Deimos stood up, and managed to hold back his first response to the question. He looked up at the grey Deepfrost sky and rolled his shoulders, checking the looseness of his muscles before he exhaled a puff of breath into the chilly air. Meeting his friend's eyes he gave a lopsided grin. "Yeah. The movement drill again?" Setting his stance wider and putting the spear on guard he watched the dummy with pale, keen eyes, waiting for its charge.
