The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

It was Monday morning, and Arthur was not about to let one little sorceress (or one not-so-little guilt complex) keep him from running the morning's training. Besides, Lady Alice might well come 'round, and now that the injury was nearly healed he needed to get as much training in as he could.

So he strode into the salle as he always did, his eyes locked on the practice blades. Time for work.

[[ open salle, kids. and now in the right comm! ]]

Comments

[bitchprince]

"You've got the instincts of a magnificently threatening duck," he agreed, lifting his chin to acknowledge her movements. "We'll see if we can put some measure of technique to your enthusiasm."

Under Arthur's training, everyone got criticism - even queens.

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

"Any would be an improvement," she said coolly, unruffled by his critique. "Though I haven't suffered for my lack of grace. Blows are blows, and wounds are wounds."

[bitchprince]

"And any one good blow ends a fight to the death," he said, settling back into stance to show a few slow, slow practice movements, "But that doesn't mean we can't increase our chances."

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

"Or, at the very least, look less like a duck while doing so," she said, trying to slow her motions to match his.

[bitchprince]

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, my lady."

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

"I did say 'less,'" she laughed. "That's hardly setting my expectations very high."

[bitchprince]

"Mmm," he hummed, "I'm not so sure of that."

It had just enough sarcasm in it to keep from sounding completely serious. "Focus on your control before you try for any speed or strength. That'll be your task for the week."