[He gives her a tilt of his head. A slight narrow of his eyes, taking in the posture, the incorrect position of her feet which he can tell comes from another exercise or another way of fighting - his first thought goes to the boxer he had to fight not so long ago, always on the balls of his feet, ready to jump; but he knows it's not that. Not really.
The intent, though, that he can read from her in waves. He likes it, even if it makes her movements slightly predictable, it's progress and he definitely appreciates that.]
And that is an observation of your own, huh?
[He blocks the swipe of her rapier smoothly, but with enough force to make it clang loudly across the room. He owes that determination a little flare, at least.] Haven't been one for a long time.
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The intent, though, that he can read from her in waves. He likes it, even if it makes her movements slightly predictable, it's progress and he definitely appreciates that.]
And that is an observation of your own, huh?
[He blocks the swipe of her rapier smoothly, but with enough force to make it clang loudly across the room. He owes that determination a little flare, at least.] Haven't been one for a long time.