April Rosevolt
Her body bristled on contact, still sensitive from the adrenaline pumping into her veins. It was more than mildly distracting to have the therian so close to her so suddenly. He always surprised her that way, and April couldn’t help but wonder if he had a natural affinity for charming woman. Remembering her earlier desires, she almost yanked on his braid in return, but resisted out of sheer embarrassment. Touya’s lips nudged against her soft cheeks before pausing at the brink of her vision.
"More than met my expectations. Though...you did have me worried at the start. Come, let’s get you fixed up with Grashath. Though I hope the old Therian doesn't have a fit about having just done you up only to come back a little beaten up," he chastised, his voice arching with his legitimate concerns. She caught the pointed look he was giving her and shrugged in a helpless manner.
“Afraid I would lose control again? I thought you wanted me to train,” she slumped, tired from her exertions. In all honesty, she was amazed she kept it together. Her arms were sore also, jarred from repeated deflections, but she didn’t wish to burden Touya with more information than necessary, “Plus, you even said it was going to be tough. Though, I must admit I was a little confused at first. Most people I know don’t train with real weapons; you therians certainly like to live life on the edge. We both held back because of it, probably.”
At those words he frowned, or maybe it was the prospect of facing the stern technician that turned his expression. Whatever the case, he engaged the gate mechanisms and ushered her outside of the arena. Behind them, Bordal was already in the process of resuming their harsh regime, sending his low tone booming over the clearing. A final glance at the cyclopean man confirmed her suspicions as the surrounding therians began performing a different set of drills in a mechanized fashion.
They made their way back to Grashath’s tent without delay, Sharye pacing ahead and functioning with his usual joviality. Watching him bounce from one side to the next made her feel older than she actually was. “Still, I need to get used to these blades,” she muttered, motioning to their hidden compartments with distaste, “Do you know when your people plan to move out against the facili-”
"Say, Touya. Can I teach Havanthii our language?" Sharye asked abruptly, still somehow managing to talk and keep pace despite his liveliness. April raised her eyebrows in astonishment, wondering what the youth could possibly be intending. Her mind chewed on the harsh words Touya had said to her earlier. Maybe he was right. Perhaps the youth intended nothing more than to help her and she’d simply lived too long in selfish fear.
"Why are you asking me?" asked Touya, partly incredulous.
"Because you're her lover," Sharye answered rather bluntly. She began to chuckle at their back and forth banter now.
"She is her own person, Sharye. You can ask her."
Sharye switched sides eagerly, landing to the right of her. "So, would you like to learn Therian?" he said, much like an entrepreneur.
“Hmmmm,” April hummed, her bottom lip forming a pout and making a show of debating the thought. She stroked the ends of her metaphoric beard and gazed at the boy skeptically. “I dunno…I mean, I could always just have Touya teach me.”
She allowed the sentence to expire, waiting to see the boy’s reaction before she continued, “How about this then. You tell me what Touya said to Bordal earlier, and I’ll…”
April lulled contemplatively, briefly considering how she could possibly repay the boy for his assistance. “I’ll teach you a thing or two about scouting.”
Damea Reese & Abigail
The doors to the training room parted abruptly, giving way to the fiery red head. Abigail looked up from the towel around her neck and stared at the mercenary for a brief moment of surprise. She was outside of her usual uniform, wearing a simple tank top and trousers with the obvious intention of performing some physically demanding task. All of it was black. She was thin, but not overly so for Abigail had an athlete’s body and a decent height on her. Almost the equal of Damea’s.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t sleep,” she said, grinning curtly. Without needing permission, she waltzed into the room and laid a sack down by the far wall. Turning to face Damea, her arms crossed over her chest as she shifted her weight to the left. “Though from the looks of it, you’ve been getting a lot less than I have. How about we spar? You can tell me what’s on troubling you in the process.”
She licked her lips and strode forwards, adopting a martial stance in the process. Damea was dressed in his own sweat and was a fair size broader than her. By far the most striking of his qualities was his mismatched gaze though, a swirling mixture of green and red. Reginald had informed her about the man's mercenary background since, though you could always learn more from the actual subject themselves. “Why don’t you try use your fire against me? I promise I won't hurt you too much. I have a few questions myself about you also if you don't mind me asking," she said, working her own magic.