Fort Weyr - Bathing Cavern
A high, domed ceiling stretches far overhead, voices echoing in the distance. Warm, moist air fills the room, coming from the variety of pools scattered about. Vines have been planted in baskets and grow up the walls, thriving in the soft artificial light provided by glows placed at random intervals about the room.

There is nothing fun about combat training. It's rough, it's dirty, and horribly tiring. But thankfully after all of that, weyrlings are free to rest and get cleaned up. R'yal has settled into the soothingly hot water of the baths, hissing a little at the heat against recent scrapes and bruises. He doesn't just soak however, he's already been scrubbing, working at the dirt that has marred his skin. Getting clean is his very first priority.

Is it perhaps fortunate that Russall understands the rigours of that particular sort of training all too well? The guard recruit looks weary as he enters the baths, still in uniform, and somewhat mucky, too; perhaps he's been doing something along the same lines as the weyrling class. He strips down slowly at the edge of the pools, wincing when seemingly sore muscles are twinged, before he unconsciously picks the same pool as R'yal to slip into and soak. He sinks underwater as soon as he's in, sitting submerged with just the tiniest of bubbles breaking the surface as proof he's still alive… and when it seems he's been down far too long, up he pops to grab a deep, needy breath.

At least it's perfectly normal not to be alone in the baths. R'yal isn't at all surprises at another's approach, turning his head a bit to peer over his shoulder when Russall climbs into the pool. Brows lift somewhat, and after a bit of the guard being..under the water, he wades over to peer a bit down at him. There's a quick step back when Russall comes up again though. "Are you…okay?"

Blinking, Russall seems surprised to see R'yal there when he comes up to breathe. "Yeah?" He wipes his hand across his forehead to sweep away the hair plastered there, and fixes his blue eyes on the greenrider. "Are you?"

"I'm..fine." R'yal moves back a little more to sit down, relaxing again. "Kinda sore though. They've been making us learn to fight and stuff.. I'm not..really good at it."

"Can't you just get your dragon to sear their arse into tomorrow?" Russall shrugs as if that's the most natural solution in the world - who can argue with a fire-breathing dragon? He yawns and stretches - grimacing when bits hurt - then leans back against the side of the bath to relax. Sunk deep enough for the water to lap at his chin, he watches R'yal curiously. "Why aren't you good at it? Don't want to hit people, or not keen on getting hurt?"

R'yal makes a bit of a face, laughing. "They can only do that if they've been chewing firestone." He brings his hands up, rubbing a bit of water over his face. "I guess the thinking is that there are times when your dragon just can't get to you.. And..a little of both I guess." The weyrling takes a look at his wet fingers for a moment, definitely a little battered from the day. “The most I’d ever anticipated in damage was pricking myself with sewing needles.. I’ve never really been one to..fight or anything. I know it’s important to learn. I know there’s times when knowing how would save my life. Heh..I just haven’t been too good at getting the hang of it.”

"If you're not a natural, then you'll just have to work harder," Russall replies, matter-of-factly. He shrugs his shoulders, and wrinkles his nose as he looks at the younger teen. "You could always get a tutor to give you more lessons. One-on-one, outside of the weyrling ones. Or just get someone to piss you off enough that you'll want to swing at them and there, you'll have done it. Simple, right?" He ruffles his fingers through his hair, then reaches for the soapsand to start lathering it through. "Should make sure you get a guard to teach you, though. They're pros, after all. Probably won't hurt you too bad."

“I don’t think…getting someone to make me mad has anything to do with it…” R’yal laughs faintly, but shakes his head just a bit. He’s already washed quite a bit after all, so soaking in the water is just pleasure at this point. He leans himself against the side of the pool a bit, sighing. “You’re a guard though. A recruit anyway. You could show me some stuff.”

Russall frowns. "If someone made you mad you wouldn't fight back? I don't know if that's good or dumb." He keeps scrubbing the soapsand into his hair, working up a lather. "Can I teach you? Huh. Dunno about that, weyrling. Do you think I'd even be allowed?" Before R'yal can answer, Russ ducks beneath the surface to wash the suds from his hair. Then he comes up, fringe plastered down over his brows. "Why me?"

R’yal shrugs slightly. “I don’t know if it’s the best way to teach fighting, is all. I’ve seen some of the others getting mad and trying to fight and..well..” They end up looking like idiots? Possibly. His fingers play with the surface of the water though, waiting with a somewhat curious look as Russall ducks under and comes back up. “Well you’re the only one I’ve really met, aren’t you? It’s easier to ask someone I at least know.”

"Maybe you ought to get out more, if you've not met any guards other than me." Russall's tone is teasing, and he winks at the weyrling as he sweeps his forelock back, leaving it spiked and untidy atop his head. Then he leans back against the side of the back, resting his arms along the rim and relaxing with a deep sigh. "If I agreed to teach you, what would be in it for me?"

R’yal sits up a little again, head tilting.”You want something?” The weyrling offers a slight smile at that, holding his hands apart in the water. “I don’t have much, I’m afraid. If you’re looking for payment and all..” He doesn’t even have the time anymore to practice the craft he left! No scarves for Russall. “But if you tell me what you’d like, I could always try and get it for you.”

"Well, yeah I want something." The reply Russall makes is in a tone that suggests as much should be obvious. "It's like a trade, no? Bartering my services for yours, or whatever. I dunno. Dunno what I want, so we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth as he does so. It ends with him shaking his head, then wincing a little as that twinges something in his neck. "When do you have free time?"

“You don’t even know?” It’s R’yal’s turn to look somewhat amused by that, and shakes his head, laughing. “Well, I’m pretty free once it gets close to mealtimes, since we have to change up what we’re doing and get everything put away.. You’ll do it? Even if we don’t have something that you’re going to take in payment?”

"I don't know yet, but there'll be something I want later. Consider your payment an IOU." Russall smirks, then reaches out with his fist to knuckle-bump the greenrider's shoulder. "You're kinda scrawny. You'll not do much good in a fight weightwise, so you'll have to learn how to floor someone quickly… or how to run away faster than they can."

R’yal rolls his eyes somewhat. “I’m already pretty good at running. It’s when I can’t that’s the important part.” He leans away just slightly at the bump, peering over at Russall again thoughtfully. “Though one good kick is sometimes all you really need.”

Russ holds up a finger, shaking his head. "No. Not necessarily. You ever heard of a cup?" He drops his hand down to cover himself in the water, pulling a face. "Kick a guy with a cup in place and you might end up more hurt than him, greenrider. Could bruise all them pretty little toes you've got." He smirks, lifting his hand to rest it on the edge of the pool again. "What do they teach you in your lessons?"

“Well I did say sometimes.” R’yal though does look at the water a bit, brows lifting at the imitation of protection. “You don’t know anything about my toes, Russall.” So seriously spoken, yet the greenrider can’t help the faint grin pulling at his lips. He rests his shoulder against the edge of the pool though, making a face. “Basics, really. I’m not terribly good at it, but with the way things are around here they want us to be able to hold our own in a fight, and be able to use a knife if we have to.”

"Ok. Basics are good. If you've got the basics down and you're able to improvise, then you should be fine." Russall looks about ready to get out of the baths as he looks at his wrinkled fingertips, then stretches them high above his head as he yawns. "You can improvise, can't you?"

R’yal watches that stretch a bit, mimicking the look to his hands. Yup, definitely a bit wrinkled.He doesn’t seem to mind it though. Instead he winces at the question, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “No other way to fight, I’ve bitten someone before.”

Russall blinks. "Bitten?" Well, that's a surprise and a half. The guard recruit's eyes narrow as he looks at R'yal, and he frowns before shaking his head. "Feral little creature, aren't you? Biting in a fight. That's wrong, R'yal." He tuts, then hauls himself up onto the side of the bath so he's sitting with his feet dangling in the water. "What'd you bite for?"

R’yal might look a little offended. At least, until Russall climbs out of the water. Then he simply averts his eyes and frowns, arms folding around himself somewhat. “Because he was about to break my arm and then kill me. Biting him seemed like a pretty good idea at the time.”

Russall takes that in for a second, nose wrinkled. "Well, I guess that sound like fair enough circumstances for something like that, but… heh. Biter. Little biter." He's amused by it, just as he is by the boy's bashfulness. "So shy, too. Keep looking that way, weyrling, because I'm about to stand up and give you a full view." He teases, speculating the greenrider's reaction if he was to see everything exposed, then he stands up. "Come find me when you're free, R'yal. If I'm free, we'll practice. See you later." Then off he pads, barefooted, bare-butted, to grab a towel.