... who was kind enough (slow enough) to give her a couple of minutes to catch said breath, before he showed. He was sweating bullets, his shirt wet and clinging to him, his mouth agape as it struggled for air. Weary and worn out, he stumbled toward Neko and gave her an empty look before he promptly fell on his face. His voice was muffled.
::When she saw him moving through the trees she gathered herself and tried to show a more collected front. The teacher was supposed to be some stoic master unaffected by such things as exhaustion, right?
That's how she remembered her training with her uncle anyway...she wasn't sure she was going to be able to measure up to those standards. However, he had entrusted this student to her, and it was her duty to try...
She flashed a smile that she was grateful he couldn't see and stepped forward.::
::She smiled as she watched him claw his way to his feet.
He was determined...good...but perhaps he could do with a bit of rest before continuing...She knew she could.::
"Well, this place is a bit of a mess. I have neglected it for some time. Lets start buy getting it in better shape while you tell me more about yourself."
::She walked a few paces over to a sack she had brought out here earlier and upended the contents on the makeshift table she had been standing beside. Various scraps of rope and other small items fell out across the surface. ((Whatever minor items you would like.))
She left the items there for Ramir ro choose from and walked over to the sparring circle, now a bit overgrown, and knelt down to begin weeding and rearranging the stones that marked the edge.::
"What kind of work have you done, and why did you choose it?"
Ramir studied the mess of bric-a-brac now on the table and was confused, because that didn't seem like a step in the 'let's clean up' direction. He shrugged as he grabbed the sack that the items were in, then starting collecting browse from the training area, which he then dropped in the sack.
Oh geez, she had to ask that question? Well, it wasn't much of her business, not really. He didn't even know if she knew about Grayell's infamy on the ocean.
"I haven't really had a 'job'. I don't remember what it was ever like to not be on a ship, so that's always been my living. I didn't choose it though, I guess it just chose me."
Ramir shrugged dismissively, he never gave it too much thought. He didn't like telling newly acquainted people that he had been a pirate of some renown though.
::She gave a nod as she listened. She felt like he was holding something back, but did not press for now. Most people liked to keep things to themselves, and she would respect that for a time. But it gave her a guage of how open he wished to be at this time.::
"If you were a sailor, I imagine you're good with ropes and knots. Could you see to the ones here? Replace or retie any that need it?"
::She continued to work her way around the sparring circle as she tried to explain the purpose of what they were doing.::
"I find simple tasks like this keep the hands busy and allow for the mind to work better. Clears the way for thinking and reflecting.
That and one should always respect the area they fight in. Real or training. Respect it, and it will respect you."
::She continued to work for a time, letting Ramir have a moment to think before she posed her next thought.::
"When you were chasing me. You did not follow my path over the roof of the shop. Can you tell me why?"
"Because if you do just what your opponent expects, they will always be one step ahead of you. That and let's face it, I couldn't catch you. The best I could hope for was to confuse you."
Ramir didn't need to give that question so much thought, but then he was pretty off the cuff with his answers. He was also quite happy to help with the rope work, as much of the rope had become twisted knotted and clumped. It was also in a state of disrepair, so he started removing those lengths that were of little use and instead, configured a more efficient manner in which to hang what was left.
::She turned her head to watch Ramir as he worked. Her own hands moving almost without the need for thought or direction.
She found that to be a satisfactory answer, but it also set up her next statement.::
"Very true. It also shows my first lesson.
On our race here, your path was not my path. You chose a route better suited for you. Yet we still reached the same place. As long as we have a goal to reach, and follow a path to reach it, the specifics of that path matter little in comparison.
The same can be said for your training...
My Uncle has taught you his path. I will teach you mine. You may find others that may teach you theirs.
None will be your path.
You may take pieces here. Adopt a style there. But in the end your path will be your own. Built by you from the things you have learned and they will carry you towards your goal.
"You know, I always hear that mastering the art of fighting, means you don't have to fight any longer. But I think mastery is an intangible thing. Gray has to be considered a master, but he chooses to fight, right?
I think some people are bred to fight, or driven to. Some, because it makes them feel alive, others because there is something wrong with them. Me? I don't know. I wanted to prove I was better than he thought. I thought I was better than I am.
And now, I find myself learning to get better, not to fight him again. It kind of doesn't matter any more. But I owe him a debt.
Right now, my goal is to repay the debt. That's all. I'm not going to question him, either."
::Her hands continued their work as she took a moment to think. Pulling weeds and tossing them to the side then tamping the dirt back down. Pull, tamp, shift. Pull, tamp, shift...::
"What you say is true. People fight for many reasons. Few truely seek mastery tho, outside of a need to best the next opponent.
To me, training is never done. There is always more to know. And the more you know, the more responsibility you have over what you have learned.
Do you choose to pass it on? Use what you know for good or ill? Sit back and watch the world go by without giving aid? And so on...
These are questions only you can answer, and those answers may change as you grow and learn. Much as we all follow our own path, sometimes that path changes, with or without our doing.
Do you mind sharing what this 'debt' is you feel you owe?"
She sure was nosy. If that were the case, Ramir has to question whether this idea was a good one. Still, he'd replied in a matter of fact manner and didn't emote any bother that her question provoked. Really, it wasn't any bother. It was just none of her business.
::Well...He was going to be a tough nut to crack. She didn't really NEED to know, but the more information he could give on his motivations, the better his training would go as she could tailor it to his needs.
Again, perhaps in time and with a bit of trust the information will come.::
"Very well."
::She worked some more in silence until she completed her loop around the sparring area. When she was done she stood and brushed her hands together to clean the dirt off as best she could. She stretched her back and walked over to Ramir.::
It hadn't been a hard task, but took some work to sort through the mess and make sense of what was left. Ramir's hands had long ago become familiar with rope though, which was evident in his knot-work. He had removed his large overcoat and his gear, all of which he'd laid on the table provided.
With a relaxed look of anticipation, he approached Neko.
Ramir wasn't certain what she hoped to learn, watching him strike an inanimate object. He also wasn't entirely open to showing her everything he knew, as he'd come into possession of a document that challenged what he'd learned so far and he wasn't as yet certain on just what he'd do with it. Any edge was an edge still in combat, right?
Ramir shrugged and approached the dummy, his hands empty and loose at his sides. He looked it up, then down, then nodded.
He stepped left, then shifted through his hips and moved right, spinning and whipping his heel full circle across the dummy's chin. It forced an opening and as the arc wound back, he ducked in with his body low and delivered to blows with that same circle - his blades in each hand now striking at what would be the knees of the opponent. His body twisted again and he sprung up then, head and shoulders more reminiscent of a foreign dance, the blades rolling over one another against the torso, before slitting off and raking over the shoulders.
It was quite artistic and almost elegant and on a surprised foe, would surprise, disable and then deliver dual mortal wounds in the span of a few seconds. It wasn't much, but Ramir was unsure of what Neko wanted to see.