Kesmi
it oculd be Draven standing up to her: what are his thoughts on this woman who is hte reason he can't play outside in villages?
does he run into her one day as he sneaks out?
what happens?
Dads reaction.. but mostly Dravens. How does he act, how does it make him grow?
(also counts as plot point if this is wrapping up the childhood thing that kept him inside)
It had been a few weeks since the festival, Draven had in that time learned a lot from the swordsmen that were showing their own skills. He learned how to guard, perry and hold the sword in a way he wouldn't hurt himself. Along the way Draven had picked up a bruise or two from the wooden swords he practiced with. It was greater fun then hanging around his father's market stand and haggling over prices.
"Good, keep your knees bent and arms limber. Let the foe come to you." Advised one of his teachers. "Just don't get too cocky, most foes are older and have more experience then you do and less likely to make costly mistakes."
This was one lesson he learned the hard way, from the bruises that bloomed under his shirt, smart taps with the wooden sword against his exposed side a couple days ago. Taking up his ready stance, sword in front, knees bent. Dark blue eyes watching the older Wind swordsman standing on the other side. The older swordsman lunged forward to bring his blade around making Draven step back and pull his own up to block. Before lunging himself at his opponent. Things were starting to come easier, this filled Draven with pride that he could do something more then just figures in his head.
"Very good, Block and lunge, get past his defences and strike." The Wind tribesmen said stepping back. "That is enough for today, you look like you could use a good meal and a bed."
Draven laughed as he used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, the streams running down into his eyes making them sting. Something he had learned to ignore as it would cost him time to remove in real combat. Handing the wooden blade back to his teacher, Draven looked off to the side where he had left Regale. The Janarim watched intently, a couple times in the past week lunging at a coupe of swordsman when their blades struck Draven when he neglected his own defences.
"Alright, though I can go longer." Draven said as he shook out his sword arm, getting the muscles to ease up.
"Its getting easier now. Unlike a few weeks ago.""You have done well. With everyone here helping, you will become a master in no time," The swordsman grinned, "But don't let it go to your head, you still have a lot to learn."
This Draven knew as he waved to the swordsman and headed out of the arena area. Regale falling in step behind him as the teen started at a jog towards home. The Market place was slowly emptying, the time being close to supper time. Draven was ready to eat, his stomach protested against the idea of going all afternoon and almost to dusk without food. Even Regale, who could happily stay with Draven's father was hungry. The Janarim barely at Draven's waist at the shoulders, rumbled slightly.
"You don't have to follow me every day when I go to my lessons. You can stay at the market and father will feed you." Draven mentioned, only to get a snort from the beast who padded along with him.
This make Draven chuckle and roll his eyes, Regale still had little trust in people. While he was fine around Draven and his father and growing used to the swordsmen that trained Draven in their art. There was still the mistrust to older men, ones that hit others specifically.
