Oda sighed as he finally reached the top of the Tree , looking around at the wide open platform where only a few stray birds sang. It appeared that Oda had the entire platform to himself, which was a most convenient arrangement. The old man walked to the middle of the platform and inhaled deeply, his thin chest puffed out under his white robe. He pressed his hands together and exhaled, as he exhaled, his legs slid apart wider and wider until he had accomplished a perfect split, which..at seventy something..was pretty impressive, if he said so himself.

Oda rolled backwards to his feet and spread his arms out as if he were about to dive off into a pool and then reached to touch his hands above his head, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deliberately. His arms returned to his side and balled into fist, his legs parted in a wide, strong stance. He threw a single punch forward with a sharp "Ha.". He went through each basic stance, one at a time, slowly and deliberately. There were no showy flips or rapid punches, but each movement was carefully calculated and precise. One day, the young ones may learn that speed of movement , while useful, was not as important as most might think. For every action, a appropriate reaction, for every attack, a defense, no attack was perfect, no defense absolute, speed and strength were the tools, but control paramount, with control and the proper tools, nothing would be beyond you. Paitence, diligence and serenity were more deadly then any blade.

Oda sat down with his legs crossed, exhaling one last time and closing his eyes. It was such a beautiful day, he would not mind sitting and just enjoying it for a few hours, unless something came up.