Characters involved: Sundew, Darklett

Salamandastron: Training Room -------------- Salamandastron --------------- This is the training room for the hares of the long patrol. The walls seem to have taken a severe beating, more than likely not from stray arrows missing the archery targets. There are several of said archery targets lining the west wall, each with small oak stands a good distance off to hold arrows, hang a bracer, and rest a bow on. The targets are of simple design: a large, tightly wrapped bale of hay with a coarse paper target on the front. A wooden mannequin, in no better shape than the walls, is in the northeastern corner of the room. Besides that, several wooden practice swords sit in a small pile. On the eastern side of the room is a small, makeshift wrestling arena consisting of two mattresses tied together. Then on the southern side of the room is a fitness area, assembled from several pull-up bars, and a nice padded area to do push up. Narrow, cylindrical weights (both wooden and metal) are pushed up against the wall, along with a few straight metal bars for them to be mounted on. -------------------------------------

Darklett is in the training room, yet again, and what else would he be doing except practicing with his knives? He's got two of them out as he sits against the archery range table, twirling them around his knuckles idly. "Mmhmmhmm... hmm hmm hmm..." Seeing as, for some reason, he's the only occupant of the vast room, he hums to himself as he gracefully manipulates the blades.

Having expected the training room to be empty, as it often is during the mid-afternoon whilst everybeast is either on duty, napping or eating, Sundew is a little surprised to find Darklett. She had intended on a lone boxing session and workout to vent a little frustration, but no matter. She doesn't yet make her presence known, watching his practice session for a while.

Darklett is in his own little microcosm of a world as he twirls his daggers, stopping and looking down at his belt. Lowering his paw, he flicks it up suddenly, sending a throwing knife into the air, that same paw reaching down and quickly snatching another from his belt, all while the opposite paw throws its knife up in the air, then catches the first knife as the third dagger enters the air, and Darklett falls into a nice juggling rhythm. "Hmm, hmmm... Hmm hmm hmm..."

Sundew watches Darkett, bemused, for a while, refraining from speech lest she disturb his training pattern. After a few minutes, however, she clears her throat. "I always thought that trainin' was like falling into a familiar step, a dance.. You get into a little nice rhythm, and you're unaware of anythin' else but you and y'weapons. 'Course, I was never much of a dancer, 'cept for training.." she grins, from her position, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room.

Darklett's eyes follow his knives' trajectories through the air, his paws moving to catch them seemingly on their own. He looks in deep concentration, but all of that is disproved once his ears flick and he turns his head momentarily to see who speaks. Seeing Sundew, he smirks, the pattern of jugglingnever breaking as he goes to look back at the knives. "Afternoon, Colonel. I don't know about a dance, though, heh. I've been called a showoff before, as well as a number of other things I'd rather not mention at the moment... But never a dancer." He grins at Sundew, and turns around as he juggles to face the targets, his muscles seeming to tense up right before two knives go exceptionally high into the air, and the third flies toward a target soon after, hitting a few inches to the left of the center. The other two are caught, and sit stationary in their respective paws. "Hmph."