Training Field — Guard Area
Separated from the guard area by a pocket of caldera, this field is enclosed and devoted to those being trained in emergency response. A noteboard is tacked on the rockwall nearest the entrance into the grounds, where scenarios can be posted up, conditions to be fullfilled and the environmental conditions to be played through described there. Props scatter the wide open area, allowing for the training scenarios to be constructed and staged for greater realism and there is enough space for several dragons to land and take off with ease, allowing for ariel training alongside ground manoevers.

Considering how cold it's been the last few days, today is rather warm. Warm enough to be out in little more than a light sweater. The training area is somewhat deserted, as most of the fresh guard graduates are participating in a training mission outside the weyr. A few NCOs can be seen coming and going through the area. Otherwise there is a lone guard using the traing equipment.

That guard is Yurolt and he's currently doing weighted squats, it appears he has regained much of his former strength. A slight bead of sweat covers his brow as he has been at it for little more than a half hour. Next to where he is working out, lies his sweater and duty sword, in a neat little pile.

A warm autumn day is as good excuse as any to be outside and enjoying the last of the good weather before winter arrives and the Weyr is plunged into snow, ice and cold. The Weyrleader has spent most of his morning with his usual routines: patrols, Wingleader meetings, more meetings. Maybe breakfast. Th'ero is free now though and with only a brief stop over at his weyr to change and gather a few things (and a certain someone), the bronzerider heads out again and briskly makes his way over to the Guard barracks and training area. He's dressed in a long sleeved tunic and at his side he has his sword and the scabbard and hilt would give it away immediately for a practice weapon and not one kept or used for actual fighting. Th'ero turns his head to briefly murmur some low comment to the one walking next to him, mouth quirked in a half-smirk that carries some amusement with it. Then he lifts his head and his eyes will focus on Yurolt, waiting for the Guard to complete his rep before calling out a greeting. "Afternoon, Yurolt! Taking advantage of the last of the good weather, I see."

Th'ero whispers, "The sword I lent you is a good one, but let me know if you find the balance doesn't suit. I could always see if the one I am using is better and… is that Yurolt? Seems luck favors us. You'll have /two/ teachers." to Kimmila.

Kimmila strides alongside Th'ero, her own practice sword in its scabbard around her waist. She's in a long sleeved tunic that's close fitting enough not to get snagged, but it's not skin tight (Faranth forbid), loose trousers and calf boots. "Hi, Yurolt," she adds after the Weyrleader has spoken. Quirking a grin at her weyrmate, she nods. "Mmm, seems like it… If he's up for it. And I will."

Seems there are a few others that have came by the training yard for some well, training. One of them being Abigail, she has her quiver full of arrows over a shoulder and bow in hand as she moves along talking to a few that she has ran into. Her gaze drifts over the others that are spotted some distance away and she smiles while sending a wave to Yurolt as she has caught sight of him first it seen.

Yurolt finishes his rep and drops the bar with a grunt. He straitens up and gives a salute saying, "Sir, Kimmila." Quickly spotting the practice sword Th'ero carries he smiles, but upon seeing Kimmila's he frowns. Are they going to tag team him? Hardly fair. Maybe they're here to spar each other instead. The guard also sees Abigail walking by with her bow in hand and waves to her. Back to the Weyrleader and his wingmate, "Yes sir, I figured I'd better make use of it."

Of course they'll play fair! Th'ero does not make it entirely clear, immediately, as to why he has ventured down to the fields with Kimmila. Obviously to practice as the sword gives that away, but with whom? "I'd have expected more to be out, actually. Does the Captain have everyone on patrols this day?" he inquires in a tone that is partially serious and casual. The Weyrleader spots Abigail then for her wave even if it's directed to Yurolt and not himself. He'll be polite enough to nod his head in greeting, but his gaze will drift back to Kimmila then and he offers her a knowing little smile. "So, Yurolt. Feeling well enough for a bit of practice sparring? Kimmila and I were going to, but perhaps we'll take you up on that offer?" He pauses for a moment, frowning as he seems to realize that the numbers don't quite work. "Not that we'll do a two on one match… Not sure if that's wise. But perhaps a few one on one rounds? Rotate?" With only three though, someone still gets the short end of the stick!

Kimmila turns to notice Abigail, looking almost envious at the bow she carries. Why is she practicing with a sword again? Oh, right. She keeps getting into situations where she needs a sword. Green eyes back to Yurolt, she grins crookedly. "Hi. And I don't mind who I spar with. Might be good to spar with different folks? If he goes easy on me. I'm not /that/ good," she says with a crooked smile.

Abigail sees that Yurolt isn't alone by the time she is wandering on towards where he happens to be. A smile is seen along with a salute to both Th'ero and Kimmila. "Afternoon Sir, Kimmila." She keeps a hold on her bow and tilts her head as she hears the talk about sparing with one another it seems. "Sparing day huh?" She questions with a curious tone, though she doesn't jump at the thought of asking to join. Well if they want a forth maybe they will ask her?

Yurolt stands up taller and nods, then hesitates. He looks toward Abigail and says, "I…uh…actually promised I'd give Abigail first dibs once I was ready. Unless she doesnt' mind?" Normally the guard wouldn't turn down any offer from the Weyrleader, but he did promise. However, he does nod to both Th'ero and Kimmila, "But rotations do sound…interesting." Hopefully his stamina is restored enough for that. As for the rest of the Guard Corps, "And no sir, the Captain is running a training op in the mountains today."

"You do just fine," Th'ero counters to Kimmila's insistence that she's not that good. "It's a secondary weapon, not your primary." And for that reason, he figures her skill with a sword is just as it should be. That, or the Weyrleader is trying (and failing) at being flattering. "It's always good to spar with different folks. More to learn from, new techniques to pick up." he murmurs and then nods again to Abigail as the brown Weyrling joins them. "Afternoon, Abigail." He casts his glance briefly over her bow. "Out practicing as well?" It would seem she is the fourth to join, as Yurolt explains the promise given. Th'ero will not encroach on it, dipping his head respectfully. "Of course. We won't intrude or have you breaking a promise made." Hopefully the bronzerider's stamina is strong enough too to withstand multiple rounds! "Well, if you are up for it after—" Pausing, he turns to sweep his gaze to include Kimmila and Abigail as well, "All of you, perhaps we could? Seeing as the field is ours." Th'ero nods for Yurolt's explanation as to where the Captain and most of the Guard Corps have wandered off and pries no further.

Kimmila shifts her hand on her sword hilt, smiling a bit more at Abigail. "You starting to pick up the sword as well? Or have you always had skill with it? I know how good you are with a bow." Then she grins. "We never did have that shooting contest…" Looking back at Yurolt, the bluerider smiles and nods. "Sure! Th'ero and I will spar, why don't you and Abigail spar, and then the two losers spar, and the two winners?"

Abigail glances to Yurolt at the bit on the promise that was made. "Oh we can do that whenever, don't want to stop a chance for ye and the weyrleader to have another go after all." This said with an amused tone. A nod is seen while she smiles to Th'ero at the bit on practicing. "Aye, just wanted to get a bit in whie I had a free moment." She does plenty when off hunting but no reason to not pick it up. Then the conversation goes on, wait she is getting pulled into this? A soft ah escapes her while she peers curiously at the three, seeming a tad unsure. "Well, I don't see why not." Is finally what she says, it shouldn't be that bad right? At the question to her skill with a sword she ponders the answer. "I do know how to use a blade; I just have to admit I prefer the bow. Always good to have a grasp on more than one weapon though, so I do try to mix it up at times when practicing. So the sparing bit would be a good change of pace now if it is to be with swords."

The young guard nods and welcomes Abigail into the oncoming fray. A battle royale! Perhaps not. "I suppose we could draw lots? Or Weyrleader's choice, as you are senior, sir." He's willing to fight but he'll let them decide his first opponent. As for weapons, "And I can run to the barracks to get some targets if you prefer an archery match…" This is for Abigail and Kimmila's sake, since he does feel a slight advantage with the sword being his primary.

Th'ero tilts his head slightly to give Kimmila a sidelong look but his smile, though faint, is genuine. "Not a bad idea," he murmurs in agreement. "I've no objections to that, should everyone else be in agreement." Abigail's statement has the Weyrleader quirking a brow up, but he says nothing on the matter and replies instead, "Always nice to have some free time to spend towards practicing. And too true about changing weapons." Which means he's very much overdue for work with a bow, but of course he makes no mention of that. "Perhaps for once, we can let rank slide?" Th'ero drawls towards Yurolt, smirking. "Drawing lots seems much more fair." What does the Weyrleader expect? His rank does draw seniority, but the bronzerider does not seem in the mood to honor it this day. "An archery match?" That does have his interest now and Th'ero glances first to Abigail and then to his side where Kimmila stands.

Kimmila shrugs, lifting a hand with palm out. "Doesn't matter to me what we do, I just want to get some work in," she says. "Yes…long time ago Abigial and I decided to have an archery match. But then I broke my wrist." And she gives a significant glance to Th'ero about that. "Never did do it. I'd like to work with swords today though, if that's alright Abigail? We'll have our match some other time."
Abigail smiles as she hears Yyourlt. "No no that's alright, sword is the weapon of choice then it should stay that. No switching things up an so forth." A nod is seen while she hears Kimmila. "Aye I'd be fine with the sword, and some point I'm sure we will get in that archery match." A faint grin seen proving she still plans on going through with it at some point.

Yurolt nods and salutes, making a quick sprint toward the guard barracks. In less than five minutes he's returned with his sparring gear, and practice sword and handfull of what look like broom bristles. "For drawing lots," he explains to any querying looks. He deposits his gear on the ground and holds the lots out for everyone to pick their lucky straw.

Th'ero quirks a brow for Kimmila's eagerness to get started, something perhaps he was feeling himself but keeping it well under wraps. The significant look is not lost either and the Weyrleader's cheeks flush with a bit of color and his gaze drops slightly in a guilty manner. "Right." He remembers now! "Well… let's not break /anything/ today, alright?" That last bit is said in a general statement to all. Clearing his throat, he adds, "If you two aren't against it, would you mind if folk observed the match?" Which means Th'ero is trying to ask if he can watch, but trying to be sneakily cryptic about it — not that it'll work. Nodding to Abigail, he turns to watch Yurolt salute and then sprint to gather the gear and the bronzeride is one to give those bristles a querying look. "Excellent," he muses once the Guard explains and he gestures for all to take their straw first and only moves to reach for his once everyone else has taken their pick.

Kimmila steps forward to pluck a straw - and ends up with a short one. Typical. "I don't mind you watching," she says, giving the Weyrleader a crooked grin as she looks around to see who else drew the short straw.

Abigail doesn't have a problem getting on with things, after all she has been wanting to spar for a while now. Her quiver and bow is set down off to the side so they are out of the way. A bit of leather pulled from a pocket as she goes about pulling her hair back and tying it in place so it will be out of her way for the actually sparing match. She looks amused while Yurolt is off, and then quickly back, soon eyeing the bits of straw and pondering a moment before reaching forward to pull one. "Nice easy way to get them teams split up." She eyes it a moment and glances over to see what Kimmila has pulled. Seems Abbey managed to pull one of the long straws.

With Th'ero being the last to draw a straw, Yurolt's is picked for him. The only straw remaining in his hand is…Long. He glances around to see whose matches his. Ah, Abigail, it seems fate will honor his promise. "I've no qualms with an audience, although there's plent of rooms for both at once." Perhaps there's not, a spar can get rather heated and out of hand. "Who shall go first?" This question is for everyone, seeing as the partners have been chosen.

"Easy and fair," Th'ero agrees along with Abigail's comment for the choice on how to split the teams. Kimmila remark is met with a long look and a crooked smirk. One would think the Weyrleader would stay silent, but he adds in a drawling tone, his accent a little more pronounced, "How kind of you to say," he muses. Turning to Yurolt then, Th'ero blinks for a moment under a slight frown and then chuckles dryly. "Oh, I wasn't going to invite the Weyr. Will you be watching the archery contest then too, Yurolt or participating?" Short straw for him too and somehow the bronzerider is not entirely surprised. Turning to Kimmila, he /almost/ grins. "Sorry, Wingmate. Stuck with me again." For this round. He does not comment on who to go first, Th'ero's answer perhaps obvious in the way he darts a glaze to the Guard and Weyrling. But he gives an inquiring look to Kimmila.

Kimmila chuckles, shaking her head. "I think the archery contest needs to wait for another day. I don't know about Abigail, but I can't weld a sword for two matches and then pick up the bow - and be good with it." Grinning, she tucks the straw behind her ear and draws her sword, taking a step back and bowing a bit to Th'ero. "Glad to be stuck with you, wingmate," she teases.

Abigail watches while Yurolt draws the long straw, a soft chuckle escapes her and she seems amused. The pairing works fine with her. As for who goes first she peers back to Th'ero and Kimmila and then glances to Yurolt. "How about Yurolt and I go first?" Perhaps she did catch that glance from the weyrleader. A nod is soon seen at the comment on the archery contest. "I'd say wait for another day. Rather not do poorly at it and blame it on the fact that we had been sparing after all." This said with an amused tone.

Yurolt can only shrug and nod. It would seem his decision has been made for him again, he's going first. Not a problem. "Well that's probably wise, sir. Wouldn't want anyone around if you…." He lets that drop where it is, realizing he's saying something rather unwise. However, Th'ero wouldn't want people to see Kimmila beat him would he? He'd probably just play it off all cool like. Nevermind, Yurolt picks up his sparring gear and begins suiting up. After that he'll limber up and step into the designated sparring area.

"I didn't think the archery contest would be for today?" Th'ero remarks with a puzzled frown. Did he accidentally imply that? The Weyrleader lets it slide though with a shake of his head, "No, I'd imagine not." he muses both the Kimmila and Abigail's comments on being too tired to do well with their bows. "Want anyone around if I what…?" Oh, did Yurolt think he'd escape so easily? Th'ero gives him a curious look for that half finished comment, though the bronzerider can already assume where it would have gone. Stepping back, he does not draw his sword though he observes as the Guard steps away to take his place before turning to face Kimmila. A brow quirks at her bow and teasing remark and Th'ero returns the bow with a slight dip of his head and a smirk that does look amused this time, as is his tone. "Too kind. You may regret saying so though," He did, after all, break her wrist (accidentally!) the last time. "Shall we observe?" he muses, though his hand reaches back now towards his hilt…

Kimmila chuckles, sheathing her sword and moving to stand beside Th'ero, giving his arm a little nudge. "Yes," she says, her grin crooked but fond as she turns to watch Abigail and Yurolt.

Abigail chuckles as she hears Yurolt as he talks to Th'ero, he doesn't have to finish the comment for her to get the idea. While she didn't come with the items for a sword sparing match there is plenty around that she can possible find to burrow, which she does. Once some gear is one she picks up a sword she was to use and gives it a few swings to get the feel for its weight. Once that is done she moves on towards the sparring area, her pale blue gaze resting on Yurolt and she grins slightly while offering a slight bow, though her gaze never leaves him. Now who will be first to start this little sparing match. She'll wait a few moments to see what Yurolt may do.

Yurolt will not be the first make a move. Instead he takes a defensive posture and bows ever so slightly. He's going to ignore Th'ero's prompting to finish his previous statement. There's a sparring match going on, sorry sir. His sword is held in front of him while his left arm is up by his face, offerring further protection. Unlike the gear he wore against Th'ero, this gear has both arms well protected and even a piece of leather over his sword hand, improving grip and protecting the fingers.

Th'ero's hand drops from the hilt of his sword once Kimmila sheaths her blade and joins him at his side. He gives her a look though for the nudge and may even return it. What? The Weyrleader will be silent as he observes both Abigail and Yurolt face off, then smirk a bit for the Guard's choice to start. It's only seconds in, but already the bronzerider leans his head down slightly, eyes still facing the sparring pair as he murmurs to his weyrmate, "Should we start wagering who'll be the winner?" he asks in an amused tone. Can't hurt to have a /little/ fun, right?

Kimmila laughs, "Well…my marks are on Abigail." And she says that loud enough for the sparing partners to hear. Little dig at Yurolt? He makes it so easy.

Abigail smirks while Yurolt takes on the defensive bit, well so be it then! She does indeed hear that there is now a wager against who wins, and then Kimmila has marks on her? Great, no pressure or anything. She turns slowly, shoulders rolling under the protective gear she has on, which rests about her shoulders and arms, also down across her legs. The gloves she has on are fingerless so she can have better control of the sword. She watches Yurolt a few moments before she shifts forward, her sword swings out to try and smack against his. While it isn't a hard hit she wants to see which way the other will go, and perhaps how he'll counter the first swing. She's never seen Yurolt spar, or use a sword so this is a bit of a learning move for her as well.

Focus, calm, serenity. Yurolt has not only been training his body since Th'ero's draw, but his mind as well. He ignores the jibs from the sideline, or perhaps doesn't even notice them. His focus is on Abigail. He does react to her probing blow, simply deflecting it to his right. He'll not attack just yet. The guard remains in his defensive posture.

"Then mine are on Yurolt," Th'ero replies in a voice just loud enough for the two sparring to hear. That's fair, right? Turning his gaze to Kimmila long enough to smile broadly to the bluerider, he adds in an amused and lower tone, "So we are betting marks, then?" This time he nudges her side first, gently of course, with his elbow. Then Abigail is making her move and the Weyrleader's attention drifts back to the match between the Weyrling and the Guard. His expression is kept neutral but his eyes watch keenly for both opponents.

Kimmila just grins, her expression a little wicked at Th'ero's question. "Of course we're not betting marks," she murmurs, leaning over to mutter something softly to him.
Kimmila mutters to Th'ero, "… we… Looser gives… request…. anything."
Kimmila whispers "Why don't we wager something a bit more personal than marks? Looser gives the winner one request. To do anything."

Abigail smirks as she watches that Yurolt makes no move, well this is rather interesting so the guard is rather watchful it seems. She shifts in her stance having to take on a different approach it seems if this is going to get anywhere. Her form moves quicker now, the sword is spun about in a half circle and she lashes out for a hit towards Yurolt's thigh, making sure to go for the area that is covered as she truly wants to make sure not to hurt him. The conversation from the others are picked up but her full attention is on Yurolt.
With a speed that seems to defy his formerly wounded leg, the guard does not deflect this blow but rather moves closer to Abigail and to her left. By so doing her strike misses Yurolt by a few inches. At the same time brings his sword up in a slashing motion intended for her chest. However, this is merely an attempt to through the weyrling off balance, not take her down. If this works Abigail will be forced off her strong leg and possibly even fall over.

Th'ero tilts his head down to catch Kimmila's muttered remarks, only to frown heavily but also smile crookedly. That can't be good! Something has him muttering back, rather than just agreeing though and the Weyrleader's smile fades a bit to a slightly serious look. He's not being a spoilsport, is he? His gaze darts back to the sparring match then and when more blows are exchanged, he straightens a bit, watching with avid interest. He will, after all, possibly face one of them by the end of this.
Th'ero mutters to Kimmila, "Might… put some restrictions on… limits… as… others. I do… requested. Certain favors."
Th'ero whispers "Might want to be sure to put some restrictions on the offer to do anything. I have my limits and I am sure you have yours as well. As do the others. I do not want anything… disrespectful being requested. Certain favors." to Kimmila.

Kimmila arches a brow back at Th'ero, and returns the mutter as she watches the sparing match.
Kimmila mutters to Th'ero, "… was… talking… /our/… wingmate…. wouldn't give favors to…"
Kimmila whispers "I was only talking about /our/ match, wingmate. I wouldn't give favors to anyone else."

Abigail is a bit surprised at the sudden quick movement from Yurolt, but she isn't caught /that/ off guard that he gets the upper hand just yet. Her sword turns about to block that slash sent to her chest. Seems it'll take a few more moments before she is taken down. Once the sword are apart she lashes out another attack sent towards Yurolt though this time at his side to make him perhaps move towards the side.

Yurolt does indeed move toward the side. Perhaps he's fallen right into Abigail's trap, perhaps not. However, as Th'ero can attest, the guard is more than willing to use his off arm as a shield. He reasonably assumes Abigail does not strike with the force the Weyrleader has and drops his left arm down to the side of incoming blow. His sword is drawn up parallel to the ground and sent forward in a thrust aimed at Abi's sword arm.

Th'ero looks rather sheepish by Kimmila's returned mutter, clearing his throat slightly as he straightens again and smiles faintly and crookedly. "Oh… well. In that case, the previous terms still stand." he murmurs softly, part statement and part question. What terms? Yurolt and Abigail are really exchanging blows then and the Weyrleader is watching every movement with a critical eye and (silently, of course) willing the Guard to gain the upper hand. Sorry Abigail!

Kimmila laughs, shaking her head. "No deal," she says lightly, teasingly. Then she turns her attention back to the fight, whistling loudly.

Abigail doesn't know that about Yurolt, not that it surprises her in the least either. His a guard after all. The strike does indeed hit into her arm, near her elbow and makes a grunt escape her at the feeling. Even with padding it was felt enough to make her arm quiver. She turns to the side trying to avoid another hit while her sword drops from her right hand to her left in a movement she must have done a few times before. Once the sword is gripped in her left hand she swings out to try and hit Yurolt's shoulder. Yes she can use both hands when it comes to using a sword, her right is just stronger.

Yurolt wasn't entirely expecting the ol' switcharoo from Abigail, but it only phases him momentarily. Given a slight advantage now her sword is closer to him, the guard makes a grab for Abi's left arm. If he succeeds he will pull her closer to him and step behind her. A victory. However, should he miss his mark, her blow will surely hit, knocking him back a few steps.

Th'ero blinks for a moment and then smirks, "No deal?" he replies back, sounding disappointed as he turns his attention back to the sparring match. A few seconds of silence and then he adds in a low tone to Kimmila, "Why is that?" he drawls and his smirk takes on a wry twist to it. "Scared?" Did he just taunt his weyrmate? The Weyrleader winces a bit for some of the blows exchanged, but overall looks quite impressed with how well matched the Guard and Weyrling are to each other. "Both are going to be make tough opponents." he murmurs in a distracted way.

Kimmila snorts, "Never," she answers. "But I'm not making a deal if you want..restrictions on it." Taunting him right back, it seems. "Mmm, yes…" she agrees quietly.

Abigail was hoping to have a bit more leverage as it were from switching hands but it seems like it may be her downfall as when Yurolt steps forward she can't swing the sword to well. Her left arm is gripped and she is pulled closer while she tries to twist about and get him to break the hold before he can move fully behind her. A faint muttering, perhaps a curse even escaping her at this point as she didn't want this to happen it seem.

It would appear that Yurolt wasn't actually prepared for his maneuver to work. In his attempt he over pulls Abigail and steps behind her. This movement breaks his hold on her hand and sets her facing his back. Not at all what he intended. A light grunt is given as he moves to turn around in time to avert disaster.

"I wanted restrictions because I misunderstood your offer," Th'ero counters back to Kimmila, keeping his voice low though his sentence is broken by lingering pauses as the Weyrleader's focus is mainly on the sparring. "So if your offer still stands, as it was prior to my blundering mistake, then I'll accept it. Or are you withdrawing it?" he drawls, taunting her again in return. Chicken? Th'ero tenses a little then as Yurolt's maneuver works against him and puts Abigail at a decisive advantage.

Kimmila smirks at him, and then extends her hand. "Deal," she says quietly, before she's whistling under her breath. "Good match."

Abigail turns in time to catch sight of Yurolt's back, her eyes narrow and she goes to send a hit towards his back, though as the sword is still in her left hand it won't have the same force behind it. This is close quarter sparing which is a bit hard with a sword, and one reason she prefers a bow or a long dagger. She can attack from far away or deal with someone up close. Maybe she'll get away and get a hit in, if not he might be able to grab hold of her left arm once more as they are still rather close.

The guard decides to not risk another grab at Abi's arm, especially since he hears her sword slicing through the air. Instead he tucks and rolls low, just enough space for Abigail's sword to fly over him. Once his roll is complete, Yurolt spins around, still crouched and aims for the weyrling's legs with the broad side of his blade.

Th'ero chuckles as he takes Kimmila's hand and grips it firmly. "Deal." he confirms and perhaps may regret later. "That it is. Fine swordsmanship," The Weyrleader remarks with another crooked smile. It falters a bit as Yurolt and Abigail close quarters and the bronzerider knows how risky things can get from there. "Best get some distance between them or this will be over soon." Th'ero remarks again in a distracted tone.

Kimmila nods, shifting her weight a bit as she squeezes Th'ero's hand in return. "It'l be over soon, I think anyway."

Abigail turns her head to see where Yourlt went, she turns and during the movement the sword hits into her leg. A sharp ack escapes her and she stumbles forward, catching herself with her right hand in the process but clearly not in any stance to protect herself for and when Yourlt attacks. Though she does turn attempting to see when the attack may come so she can at least try to stop it.

Nothing fancy here. Yurolt doesn't attack he merely stands and and shoves his blade toward Abigail's stomach. He's taken advantage of her stumble to once again close the distance. The guard rather enjoys a short sword in such close proximity. Will she yield? He gives her enough space between her flesh and the blade tip, that if she's quick enough she can still deflect it. However, he's confident that he's managed a win. We shall see.

Th'ero will let Kimmila's hand go once the gesture is complete, though he steps close to the bluerider's side once more. "You think so?" he muses. "I am not so sure. They are evenly matched for skill…" But the Weyrleader should learn to watch what he says. For in that moment Yurolt makes his move and the bronzerider smirks and then grimaces, almost flinching, when the Guard's blade turns to point towards the Weyrling's exposed stomach. He says nothing though, waiting to see if Abigail yields or tries to counter Yurolt's blade.

Kimmila exhales with a frown when it looks like Yurolt has won the match. "Well damn. Looks like you win, wingmate," she says, glancing sidelong at the Weyrleader. So why does she look pleased?

Abigail is going to try and move again before Yurolt is there and the blade is pointed at her stomach. Her jaw tense as she looks up at the guard eyeing him a few moment, ponder if she should counter the attack ir seems. She is clearly not happy at this turn of events, her hand gripping tightly against her sword before a faint breath escapes her. "Ye got lucky this time Yurolt." Seems she did yield and the sword is even dropped to the ground to prove this. Though it also proves she plans on another round with him at some point.

Yurolt lowers his blade slowly and bows. Wiping the sweat from his eyes with his left hand he offers his right to Abigail. "Well fought…" He nods in response to the unspoken rematch. Assuming Abigail accepts his hand, he will turn and present both of them to Th'ero and Kimmila in a joint bow. Once that's done he'll move to the sidelines and collapse in a seat and suck down alot of water. He'll quietly let Abi know she almost won, and he was in fact quite lucky.

"So it does, Wingmate." So it does. Th'ero keeps his smugness minimal, glancing sidelong as well to catch Kimmila's look and giving her a faint but crooked smile. "We'll discuss the result of the wager later?" he murmurs and then turns to give Yurolt and Abigail a respectful half-bow as well. "Nicely fought! Kimmila and I were discussing how evenly matched you two seemed to be. Came close many times." The Weyrleader says in a voice now loud enough to be heard by all as he takes a few steps forwards. "No injuries, I hope?" he asks as his gaze slides between the Guard and Weyrling. Once assured all is well, Th'ero will make a sweeping gesture with his arm, followed by another slight bow towards Kimmila. "Seems that it's our turn now, Wingmate. Shall we?" Once the bluerider moves to take her place, the Weyrleader will unsheath his sword and take his defensive and readied stance across from her. He wears no (visible) gear, so one might wonder how long this sparring match will last.

Kimmila chuckles, grinning at the pair. "Well done," she compliments. "You almost had him, Abigail." But then she's walking forward and pulling her own sword, twisting it in her grasp until she has the grip correct, before she crouches down. She's wearing arm guards to protect her wrists, but other than that, nothing else. And then, without waiting, she launches forward with an attack.

Abigail takes in a soft breath and looks at the offered hand, which she takes hold of while slowly standing up. She nods to Yurolt, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Aye, well fought indeed." She follows through with the bow to Th'ero and Kimmila. "True, almost did indeed. Perhaps I'll have better luck next time." As for the possible injuries she shakes her head, and is fine. With sword in hand she moves along, setting the sword back in its spot and getting the gear off before she watches as Th'ero and Kimmila start, taking not how quick it was to get it going. Next time surprize attack is the key!

Yurolt offers Abigail some water and nods to the Weyrleader and his wingmate. He snorts out how quickly Kimmila attacks. "She may regret that shortly…although.." He knows how fast Th'ero is as well. The guard just wonders about Th'ero's stamina after his recent wound.

Th'ero does not seem surprised at all by Kimmila's choice of attack and any conversation has been forgotten. He does not mean to slight, but with his opponent now charging him, the Weyrleader has to think fast. Yurolt won't be far off the mark in wondering about the bronzerider's stamina or speed. He can still move, but there is a noticeable shift of his weight /away/ from his injured leg, a bit of stiffness in it even as he shuffles back to brace. Rather than dodge her attack, he simply deflects it once she swings her sword and with a grunt, shoves her back enough to increase the distance between them. Not to off balance or pitch her down, but once he has the room too, he adjusts his position, braces his weight and swings his sword up in a sweeping arc — a maneuver she's likely familiar enough with.

Kimmila grins, her look feral and a touch wild as she steps back - she expected that, and would have been astounded if she won that quickly. Getting her footing, she shifts the sword with both hands to counter his next attack, the sweeping arc blocked as she steps to the side and lets his blade slide off of hers, trying to trick him into using his forward momentum to keep going and possibly stumble.

Abigail takes the water as she leans back and sips from it. She's content to hang back and just watch without commenting much. Her gaze drifts one way and then another while she follows the pair go back an forth. "I image they have a rather good idea of what the other may do to some degree." This is murmured softly to Yurolt.

Yurolt nods. He agrees with Abigail. However, he hopes Th'ero has a few tricks up his sleeve. That's where his money lies anyway. The guard slips a two-mark over Abi, "I've got two on Th'ero." Oh yes, money is being bet.

Th'ero's expression has twisted into one of concentration, though his lips do draw back into a grin when Kimmila counters him easily. He knows what trap she sets for him, letting his momentum carry forwards and perhaps fool her into believing it worked. But he will twist at the last moment, hooking her blade with his as his weight shifts and his legs take the worst of it too. That can't be good for his knee… but he does not stumble. Locked at her side now, he tries again to shove her back and pull his sword free of hers. But rather than step back and take up a defensive stance again and allow her to charge him, he pushes forwards and swings his sword again in a downwards slash. Then another swing, another push if their swords lock, always trying to off balance her and regain enough ground to resume again. Simple maneuvers, but fast. No fancy work and there is a reason why — two reasons. Kimm's skill level and Th'ero's injury. Which will give first?

Kimmila smirks, as if she knows what game he's playing. She is quick footed and her nimbleness serves her well now, as she steps back and does not go off balance. She swings back at him when she can, using the moves he has taught her and then an odd one, sweeping in from the left and then upwards at a diagonal. Not one he's taught her, for sure.

Abigail hums and peers over at Yurolt a moment at the bet that is put up, oh really now? She smirks a moment before looking back towards the pair. "Two on Kimmila then." This said while two marks are fished out from a pocket and set down next to the ones already there. Oh yes there is beting indeed.

Yurolt smiles and taps the marks on the bench. Bet accepted. He leans way forward in his seat as he sees the move Kimmila has just done. The guard looks back at the marks and sighes, he may be out on this one.

Oh, if Th'ero only knew there was betting going on. Maybe that is expected? The Weyrleader seems to have forgotten that there are two watching him spar with Kimmila, his eyes and focus only on the bluerider as she does not take the lure to his games. Swing, block, shift, step back, push forwards… it's almost too easy as she feeds him the moves he knows too well. Then comes that odd one and that /does/ take him off guard. Grunting in surprise, he has to dodge awkwardly as not only does it come from an unexpected angle but from a direction he was not expecting either. She almost clips him then, but he manages to bring his sword up at the last moment but it's awkward at best. His position is wrong too for the maneuver, hastily done and then corrected and it costs him in the end when his still mending leg gives (that earns a fleeting pained grimace) and he has to break his sword from hers as he staggers back. There's her opening, as his side turns to her, exposed save for the arm he has raised up in defense, his sword in the other hand. If she moves fast enough, she may strike before he can straighten and counter…

Kimmila grins, but there is a quick look of concern as well when his knee gives. Still, she's not going to go easy on him and she steps forward, sweeping her sword in for the strike. She stops it at the last moment though, so she only taps him - since she knows he's not wearing anything protective and she doesn't feel like nursing him through cracked ribs. "Yield."

Abigail watches the movements and tilts her head as she ponders while the sparing match continues on. She hums softly thinking for a moment, just a slight moment that maybe she picked the wrong person to bet on? In the outcome there is no questioning, as she had a feeling Kimmila could pull it off. Sorry Th'ero! She grins and tilts her head; a soft chuckle escapes her while she peers over at Yurolt. "Rather good match don't ye think?"

Yurolt says nothing as he stares incrediously at the pair on the field. "No, no way, it's not over yet…is it?" Though Kimmila's performance was extremely impressive, the guard is sure Th'ero is going to come back. Isn't he?

Sorry Yurolt, but Th'ero knows when he has been well matched and though the Weyrleader does not look overly thrilled, he is in the same turn impressed by Kimmila's maneuver. He did /not/ teach her that. That and his knee is likely giving him a few warning throbs or twinges of pain that he best not ignore, pride or not. "I yield," he growls out in a gruff tone, eyes looking up at Kimmila as he lowers his sword and then tries to straighten and move back from the point of hers now resting against his ribs. Oh, he's tempted to just evade her and resume and it shows in his expression. He knows how. But done is done.

Kimmila grins, dropping her sword, but then she's stepping in close and…kissing him? Ew? Right on the lips, too. Flushed and happy, she can't seem to help herself and assuming he doesn't recoil or faint from the shock, she loops her arm through his and starts to walk towards Abigail and Yurolt. "So who bet on me?" Of course she assumes there were bets.

Abigail waches as Th'ero does indeed yield, a sight elbowing is sent to Yurolt. "Told ye." Is murmured out softly. Then Kimmila is kissing Th'ero. She blinks and then lets her gaze flick off to some poin on a wall over thar. A slight cough escapes her and her hand lifts while she scratches at the back of her neck. The question from Kimmila gets her attetnion, and for a few moments she ponders before clearing her throat and speaks up. "Well I did actually…" It was a given right?

Yurolt has a sour look on his face, he doesn't like losing. But Kimmila did show some impressive moves that suprised the guard and obviously the Weyrleader. "She did." He thumbs toward Abi even as she ribs him. Yurolt also pretends not to see the kiss. Not that it's awkward, but it is…Yeah, it is awkward.

Th'ero is expecting Kimmila's approach to be so he can take her hand in the usual gesture to signal a spar well fought. So he claps her arm, straightening further as he gets his legs back under him and then she's kissing him. He freezes for half a second, not recoiling or fainting but visibly flushed and shocked. Think that was awkward? The Weyrleader returns it (when his brain kicks into gear), though he keeps it modest and brief and with Kimmila's arm looped through his he strides back towards Yurolt and Abigail at her side. Clearing his throat, he doesn't quite meet any of their eyes directly. Not that he's /that/ embarrassed by the loss as it was a well deserved win on Kimmila's part. "Can't win all bets." Th'ero remarks dryly, which in turn reflects on the sparring itself. Can't win them all, right? He smirks faintly. "So do we move on to another round?" he asks, not seeming too winded from his spar with the bluerider though he is baring his weight more to his right side than his left.

Kimmila is grinning, looking rather pleased with herself as they walk back. "So which round now? The losses or the wins?" Glancing at Th'ero, she then eyes Yurolt and offers, "Shall we go now? I'm not too winded." And she knows Th'ero's knee is giving him some pains.

Abigail gives Yurolt's arm a slight pat while glancing over to him. She knows very well that feeling of being los, as she did feel that way not all that long ago after all. "Good show, both of ye." At the question whom is to go next she is all for Kimmila and Yurolt to go next though she waits to see what is said while picking up the marks and pocketing them.

Yurolt stands and nods. He's had a brief rest, and if Kimmila is ready to go, then so is he. The guard does offer her some water before they get started but marches out into the ring. He's seen how fast Kimmila can be, and he's slightly worried. Still, he takes a crouching defensive stance, designed to protect against the berserker style Kimmila seems to favor.

"Looks like the winners," Th'ero drawls, a touch amused and relieved that he will not have to go next into the ring. Slipping his arm from Kimmila's, he will grasp her shoulder instead as he leans in to whisper something by her ear and then give her an encouraging nudge back out towards the fields where Yurolt now waits for her. "Best of luck, Wingmate." To Abigail, the Weyrleader nods and gives the Weyrling a vague smile. "Thanks. Seems we'll be facing each other next?" If the bronzerider's knee holds up. Carefully, he'll take a seat or prop himself up somehow where he can take more weight off the offending leg. Sword is sheathed and his gaze goes out to where Yurolt is now in his defensive stance and his expression is unreadable. The Guard better not be too rough!
Th'ero whispers, "Keep focused. He may go easy on you but that could be a trick. You've seen him fight before. With me and then Abigail. Don't let him in close and watch your feet." to Kimmila.

Kimmila takes the water with a nod of thanks, and looks up at Th'ero. Listening to his whisper, she nods and seems to take whatever he said seriously as she steps back towards the sparing grounds. She, too, takes a defensive stance, and for all her previous speed, now she seems content to wait. Patient, and wary.

Abigail settles down upon a seat finally as shew atches once this new game is started. A glance is sent to Th'ero and she nods with a smile seen. "Aye, so it would seem." There is a moment that she wants to ask how his leg is, and she half ponders before asking the question not sure of the answer, and even less of the look she could possible get. "How is yer leg sir?".

Oh, no violent attack, rushing wildly at her opponent? Well Yurolt is not biting on this one. He adjust his posture only slightly and remaining crouched he begins to slowly circle Kimmila. The guard has little intention of throwing the first blow. He'll do this all day, and he's banking on Kimmila getting bored with the slow pace.

"Nagging me a bit, but it will be fine in a moment. It just does not have the same strength as before, but this will be good for it." Th'ero murmurs to Abigail, glancing sidelong to the Weyrling while Kimmila leaves to take her place. Seems it's not a dangerous question to ask the Weyrleader? There's an awkward sort of pause then, as the bronzerider fumbles for something more to say. "Any guess as to who may win this one?" he asks, though notably does not mention wagering. Perhaps it's a bit odd for marks to be exchanged between a Weyrleader and a Weyrling. Yurolt begins to circle Kimmila then and Th'ero's attention drifts back to the fields, a frown settling on his features and watching closely, his expression once again difficult to read. Does he approve or disapprove?

Oh, it's going to be one of those? Well, Kimmila is more hunter than she is sparing partner, and Th'ero at least should be able to recognize the focused and calm expression that settles onto her face as she begins to circle Yurolt in turn. Allll day. It also gives her a chance to recover from the previous sparing match. So bring it on, as long as it takes.

Abigail nods slightly once she hears what Th'ero says. "Tis good to hear sir." At the question about who will win her gaze follows after the pair at the slowness is picked up on. "I'm staying with Kimmila on it." She make no comment about wagering, this is the weyrleader she is talking to after all. As for the match itself she knows that Kimmila is a hunter, to be a hunter one has to have plenty of patience after all.

Oh Shards, Yurolt too can see the look of feral cat hunting him. Great, he's being hunted. Very well, he shall take the initiative. Bracing himself he drops his sword to his side and crouches deeper so he can launch himself with a swinging sideswipe. Aaaannd he's off, racing towards Kimmila. No! He's stumbled, a pained look on his face, reaching for his right leg with his left hand and he rolls onto the dirt.

Th'ero chuckles dryly, "Wise decision, I think." he muses to Abigail. "I'm honestly undecided. Both have their strengths." And he's certainly curious to see how they play out against each other. The Weyrleader does know that look on Kimmila though and he exhales heavily, "Oh shards," he mutters, "We'll be here all day if they prowl around each other like that." Just as he's about to consider shouting at them to 'get on with it' (hey, he'd be curious to see how they'd react to that half-command!), Yurolt is crouching down and moving in for a sideswipe maneuver… only to hit the dirt! Th'ero is on his feet then, tensed and alarmed and ignoring the protest from his knee for so much abrupt movement in so short a span of time. "Damn," he curses, glancing back to Abigail with a heavy and concerned frown and yet… there's suspicion there too. Real or a trick? He lingers it seems, waiting to gauge Kimmila's reaction.

Is this a trick? Kimmila has the same thought at the same time Th'ero does, it seems. Poised to meet his attack, Kimmila is suddenly dipping the point of her sword and taking one small step forward. "Yurolt? Are you okay?" To her credit (or not), she does not approach just yet.

Abigail chuckles softly at the prowling bit. "It's a hunter's game now I think." She sips at cup of water soon finishing it and lifts her head while watching as Yourlt is about to make his move. His on the ground? She stands frowning as she watches. "Yourlt…" Though the same thought must be circling the three at the moment as she suddenly wonders if it is a trick as well. Still if it is a trick she is going to make sure and swat the guard later for playing such a trick on them all.

It's not a trick by any means, but still Yurolt is quick to his feet. He holds his hand out asking for a brief moment as he shuffles around. Apparently trying to walk it off. "Sorry, sorry everyone!" He shouts this out and grunts a little on his next step. "I'm fine. Just not ready for that kind of movement yet…" He sighs and looks apologetically to Kimmila. Reset?

"Perhaps this was not so wise an idea so soon," Th'ero murmurs in a low voice that only Abigail may overhear and there is a considerable pause for the Weyrling to answer if she wished too. Even though the Weyrleader's gaze never turns to her, his eyes remaining fixed on Yurolt and Kimmila. Once the Guard is up, some of the tension leaves his posture but the bronzerider is not wholly convinced. "Are you sure on this, Yurolt?" Th'ero calls out, frowning heavily and there is some concern there. Both for the Guard's health and the fact that he does not want the Captain ripping into his hide later. "We can always delay the second round!" No shame in that!

Kimmila's sword drops a little bit more. "Are you sure you're okay? We can do this another time…" she says, echoing Th'ero's statement. Then her sword drops all the way, point to the ground. If he attacks now, well…

Abigail glances to Th'ero curiously a moment. Should she agree? There is a slight pause as she glances back towards Yurolt. "Perhaps, but it was his decision. He did feel that he could go along with it." This said with a soft tone. She chews on her lips a moment as she watches Yurolt. "There's no harm in waiting a bit Yourlt." No, she clearly doesn't want to see him hurt during all this.

Yurolt nods to everyone, "It's alright, I just should have stretched after the first match." He hopes. Anyway he sword salutes Kimmila and prepares to go again. He'll take up a more upright defensive stance and see what happens.

Th'ero turns his head a little to regard Abigail curiously for her soft spoken remark, thoughtful as he mulls over that bit of information. "Well, I suppose if it's choice…" he murmurs and lets the subject drift awkwardly to silence. The Weyrleader doesn't entirely approve, for various reasons, but it's true that the Guard is capable of making his own choices. So when Yurolt lifts his sword again, Th'ero can only nod and press his lips into a thin and slightly grim line. So be it. The bronzerider steps back again, glancing towards Kimmila and giving her a small nod. He's seen how she's lowered her sword. Is that a cue that she can continue if she feels like it?

Kimmila arches a brow at Yurolt and then shrugs, lifting her sword again. "If you say so," she says, and then she's lunging in for a quick attack, perhaps hoping to use his unsteady leg to her advantage. She won't kick a man when he's down but if he insists on playing she'll press her every advantage.

And this is what Yurolt was hoping for. Not that his leg didn't really cause him to fall or anything, It did. He just hoped that continuing would get Kimmila to pounce. The guard can sense the hunter in her and decided to play the lame rabbit. As she lunges he places his strong leg back and raises his sword across his body to block her attack. The force of her lunge will force his weight onto his back leg, pivoting him around and hopefully sending Kimmila right on past him.

On the sidelines, Th'ero observes with a keen eye and it dawns on him then what Yurolt may have done. It has the Weyrleader both cursing under his breath and grudgingly admiring the Guard for his tactics. Smart, to turn an injury from an disadvantage to an advantage… and not in so obvious a way. He won't sit this time but rather paces a little, a little restless now as the sparring resumes.

Kimmila smirks, and even lets out a short 'ha' of admiration for how Yurolt has played her. Well done. She does step past him, but she doesn't try to stop and turn. Instead she continues, getting clear of his reach before she turns and circles around, and then darts back in again, aiming to come at him from his good side, in the hopes of putting his weight onto his bad leg.

Yurolt grunts as he makes a swing after Kimmila. She's fast, and doesn't stay within reach long. He knows he's not fast enough to face her attack, so he waits, it won't be long before she's on him. Once she's closed the distance and begun her second attack, the guard simply drops to the ground and throws his sword arm up to catch her attack. If this goes right she'll have to roll over him and he can stand, maybe even get his blade to her before she recovers. Of course at the very least, Kimmila might even just trip over his body. However it goes, when Yurolt tries to stand his leg actually hampers him and he'll lose any momentum he had.

Th'ero will pause in his restless pacing as Kimmila turns back on Yurolt after clearing his reach, only to grimace as she darts back in. Careful! But the Guard reacts just as the bronzerider may have expected and even if not the case, the Weyrleader can't help but be impressed by the choice in countering the bluerider's attack.

Kimmila meets his attack and she does start to trip over him, kicking off with her feet at the last moment and tucking in an instinctive roll. It's hardly graceful, but she does manage to scramble to her feet in fairly good time, whirling to meet any attack Yurolt might've made, on the defensive.

No attack comes, as Yurolt struggles to his feet, cursing himself for that maneuver. Yes it worked, but no his leg hurts worse. He's lost his initiative and wants to gain it back. So he moves awkwardly toward the bluerider. Not the impressivley quick sprint he tried earlier, but a shuffling methodical movement.

Th'ero winces a bit both for Kimmila and Yurolt's sakes as the bluerider rolls and then scrambles again (that he takes with a bit of relief) but for the Guard… The Weyrleader is frowning again and his mouth sets itself into a disapproving line. This is going a bit too far, if it's not just another ploy to trick Kimmila again. So he bites his tongue and waits to see how she reacts first before stepping in.

Kimmila takes a step back, away from the shuffling advance, frowning at the way he's moving. "Yield," she says, keeping her sword up but not pressing the attack. "Before you hurt yourself you stubborn fool."

Yurolt is not dumb enough to try the same trick twice. Even if the first time was real. And yes he is a fool, stubborn to boot. But it is his honor as a guard that keeps him going, he can't yield until he feels he's been beaten. He shakes his head at Kimmila and charges. Well moves faster anyway, sword held with both hands on his right side. A strong swing, but leaving himself open to attack.

Yes, yield! Even an honorable man knows when to cut his losses and Th'ero can only give an exasperated sigh when Yurolt refuses to stop even after Kimmila asks it of him. The Weyrleader tenses when the Guard charges, muttering a curse under his breath as he finally steps forwards and off the sidelines. Likely too late by then as Yurolt is already closing in on Kimmila, but he's had enough. "Stand down!" he says firmly and in a commanding tone, not raising his voice but certainly pitching it to be heard. The bluerider will have time to make her attack before Th'ero steps in and he will just coming in to be sure the Guard stays down this time regardless of the outcome.

Kimmila frowns. She's had it up to here with stubborn men. She feints to the right and then fakes a hit to his face - but she doesn't hit him, instead she sweeps her sword to the left and gives him a hit on his left side with the flat of her blade. Not too hard, but probably enough to stagger him. Then she holds her sword up and steps back, eyes darting to Th'ero. She tried!

Yurolt dodges to the right to avoid the face feint just in time to get struck in the left side. The combination of a bad right leg, the dodge, the yell from Th'ero(which warranted a slight look) and strike are enough to send the guard into a roll. Steel clangs against the ground and some dull thuds followed by a wet sounding thwack are heard as he tumbles. After about three or four rolls the guard comes to a rest on his belly, face down. A puff of dust flies up as he exhales sharply, then props himself up. Slowly he stands and red can be seen where he lay. Blood runs down his face, and wipes it away thinking his scar has reopened. He feels the left side of his face and realizes the blood is from his nose. She did manage to break it! Well, it was entirely his own fault.

The commanding shout was more for Yurolt's benefit, not aimed at Kimmila though it's hard to really direct something like that. So Th'ero will only hold up a hand to signal to her that she's not at fault and he knows it, even if it's missed as Yurolt goes tumbling and the Weyrleader grimaces in a mixture of frustration and concern. "For Faranth's sake!" he swears out loud as he lengthens his stride despite his knee stiffening in protest and giving him an odd but subtle limp. Spotting the blood only fuels his frustration, one that is rapidly beginning to kickstart his temper. "Hope that served as a lesson in humility?" Th'ero remarks in a flat and dry tone, clipped and lacking much in the way of sympathy as he comes to stand across from Yurolt. Frowning heavily, he gives the Guard a lingering look from narrowed eyes and clearly disapproving. "Just a broken nose and you're lucky it's just that."

Jeez, did she really hit him that hard? Kimmila stares at the young guard in surprise, before she's sheathing her sword and hastening forward. "Faranth, Yurolt, why didn't you yield?" she demands, green eyes narrowed. Standing beside Th'ero, she leans forward to offer Yurolt a hand up.

Believe it or not, Yurolt is not in the least bit upset or worried by Th'ero's building rage. It was his choice and he stands by it. He even believes that Captain Breshir would be proud of his commitment. However, he is young, brash and based on his previous actions, incredibly stubborn. The guard stands tall before Th'ero and Kimmila, at attention despite the blood flowing down his face. "Aye, sir, lucky, sir…I did not think I was beaten yet, ma'am." He's stood before the man before, and this is why he calls her ma'am rather than Kimmila. He'll take whatever's coming his way, but with honor.

All that logic and reasoning Th'ero could understand and has likely, at some point in his life, followed. But the Weyrleader has learned a few things, discovered flaws in such pride and honor and stubbornness. He knows now that it can blind a man and lead him right into foolish (and stupid) actions. Case in point! So the bronzerider will only continue to frown his disapproval and frustration at the Guard, even if deep down he can understand why the young man did it. "You were defeated, Yurolt. These are sparring matches. Casual. Not competitive. There was nothing to prove." Th'ero points out curtly, his words clipped and blunt as he struggles to keep his tone level. Kimmila's arrival has the Weyrleader shifting just enough to stand more at her side, though he stands at his full height and keeps Yurolt pinned under his gaze. Sure, it's a bit of male posturing, but who can fault him? "Learn to curb your sense of honor and pride. There is no shame in yielding to a friendly spar match and you've only succeeded in injuring yourself. Now go get yourself to the Infirmary so they can set that." And best be quick about it too. There seems to be no room for arguing as Th'ero takes Kimmila's arm then and it's clear the Weyrleader intends to leave the moment the Guard gives his answer to his orders.

Kimmila just shakes her head, giving Yurolt a lingering, thoughtful look. But in the end she just nods, in full agreement with Th'ero. Then she's led away by Th'ero, going willingly and muttering about broken noses.

Yurolt will obey. He's not that stubborn. Well he is, but…"Aye, sir," he says to Th'ero and snaps a salute. To Kimmila he gives a saddened look, he hates if he's disappointed or scared her. He understands they're friendly matches, but he has a need to prove himself after his ordeal at Gold Hill. However, that's for another time. He'll snap to, about face and march his way to the infirmary. They're used to seeing him in there anyway.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.