In the Courtyard
It's been a long morning already, or so it feels to Ingress. She's showed Lan all the forms and long-practiced movements she remembers from Arithon's rigorous instruction. A lot of time has gone by, though, and she doesn't remember what some of the steps were called. She just goes by rote through everything she can recall.
Her arm is getting a little wobbly, and it's only her wooden practice sword she's using. She is out of shape.
Also, Lan is a little intimidating. He's not the stern, yet jolly, taskmaster Arithon was, and he's awfully tall in a looming kind of way.
But she's wearing her Greys that Kerowyn gave her a long time ago, and she feels like a Herald. That's a very good feeling.
"Um. I think that's all I remember." She lets her sword hand drop, resting her arm.
Her arm is getting a little wobbly, and it's only her wooden practice sword she's using. She is out of shape.
Also, Lan is a little intimidating. He's not the stern, yet jolly, taskmaster Arithon was, and he's awfully tall in a looming kind of way.
But she's wearing her Greys that Kerowyn gave her a long time ago, and she feels like a Herald. That's a very good feeling.
"Um. I think that's all I remember." She lets her sword hand drop, resting her arm.