RP:Part II: Playing Dead with the Hash Slinging Strangler

Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc

Synopsis: Penelope insists she is ready to meet Krice again and prove that she can shoot 15 arrows in a row. She had not been able to until the pressure was on, and well, did she feel pressure in her muscles. Master Krice shakes his finger at Penelope as she wants to learn more knowledge too quickly and thinks combat is just an easy sport you can learn with a couple tries. Either way, Penelope is a mess and Krice is observantly scolding, but gentle all-the-same. Though, my oh my does Penelope know, at least, knows how to use a dagger!

Abandoned Archery Range

Word was sent to Mesthak in seek of the man with the katana. The girl with the healing hands was ready to prove that her hands were capable of so much more than people gave her credit for. The letter was set for the same time as last time. Dawn. Instead of practicing before the warrior shows, she seats herself on a tree stump with the same bow in her grasp and the same arrows placed neatly on her back. Her hair is tied back, she is in the same black pants with hiking boots with a fleece-lined coat to take away the chill of the winter morning. The woman waits patiently like stone on the stump. Her vision is on the tree line as she waits for Krice, but her hearing also tries to focus behind herself. She was learning.

Krice could have appeared from any part of the forest, including the line of trees that Penelope watched so vigilantly. Instead, given how watchful she looked, he opted to test her awareness - something he had told her to sharpen when last they trained - by standing right behind her, within reach, having arrived seemingly without making a sound. Dressed in his usual attire with his katana strapped to his back, the warrior gazed down at the head of the seated woman and broke his silence to speak a smooth, " Hey."

Penelope caught onto new subjects fast. The student knew that the warrior was very silent when approaching people, for he always approached her in that way ever since they met. So, when the warrior is behind her, she notices the faint shadow that hovers on the ground next to her. There was no sense of being startled. The healer, instead, turns her head nonchalantly with a knowing smile. “Good morning,” she would then stand and turn to face him straight on. She then breaks character of being that hardened, aware shell. “Not bad, eh?” She sort of throws her hands out in a ‘huh, huh tada’ expression. What a dork.

Krice studied Penelope through the duration of her awareness of him, her reaction to his presence, and then the liberation from that aware self to gloat. His lips curled into a thoughtful smirk along with a quiet 'hm', intrigued, but he bowed his head in agreement. " Not bad," he echoed, sending his gaze to their surroundings. The last time he was here in the forest, he encountered Linken and his dark passenger. Was it really safe for Penelope? " How're you doing?" He asked of the healer, gold-freckled eyes returning to her face once more.

Penelope's lips turned back into a thin line. “Well, rested,” she says simply, but as their last conversation was a lot more intense with the mention of Linken’s demonic being, she knew very well Krice was not completely asking about her feelings for the day. “No sign of –it-. Actually, I haven’t been around him for a bit. I asked him to move to rest in the hut. During the day, I don’t see him often. I just hope he’s not causing much terror.” A sharp inhale is given. “How’re you?” She asks in return with the sort of small talk. While he speaks, she would turn and begin to wander to get herself set in place for practice. Today was the day to prove herself.

Krice certainly wasn't asking after Penelope's welfare for small talk; it was something he genuinely wanted to know, partly because of the danger Linken's passenger posed to them both - and everyone else. He shook his head briefly. " I'm fine," was his offhanded reply as he glanced toward the hut that he presumed was the one that housed Linken's resting form. " I spend most of my time up in Frostmaw but I haven't sensed anything... -terrible- since I returned." Reluctant to waste any further trouble, the warrior regarded Penelope as she wandered and he turned to follow her, his own steps slow, distant from hers. " What do you want to learn today?"

Penelope reaches out to grab an bone-crafted arrow. She is silently relieved when Krice says he has not sensed anything terrible and she gives him a softer gaze. The woman then continues on. “I want you to finally teach me some hand to hand combat,” she admits. “But before that, obviously I need to prove that I’m more serious than you think.” Without him saying the next word, in one swift movement she is placing the arrow on the shelf of the bow, drawing her arm back straight and she angles her elbow down, so she can direct the arrow so it would have time to fly through the air to stick the landing into Wilson. Her fingers release the arrow and it lands in Wilson’s mock-pancreas. Wait… pancreas? Wait… was this wooden figure now labelled? She had taken time to label the dummy with the body parts. Why? She was looney. Nothing like studying the body -and- learning to attack it all at once. Saving time.

Krice regarded Penelope thoughtfully. She said 'finally' as if they had been training for months. Silent, he observed her display of 'seriousness' by watching her loose the arrow into Wilson's marked pancreas; he had seen the labels on the wooden dummy before he greeted the woman moments ago, so he was not surprised to find the arrowhead lodged in that word. The warrior glanced at Penelope once more to say, "You've definitely improved. Your technique is better and it seems like your balance is more even." He nodded to Wilson. " Were you aiming for his pancreas?"

Penelope was only patient with certain things, and learning was not one of them, for she always was waiting for the next step to learn. So yes, one day of training and two weeks of practicing on her own made it feel like months in her world. “I feel more even,” she admits breathlessly. The Ardelian smiles at the warrior. “Well, I just chose a spot for the first one,” she then prepares another arrow in the same position as last time. “So, pancreas it is,” she says this with ease. “My apologies, Wilson. Today,” what is going on, “you feel the sting of fifteen arrows in your pancreas, but don’t worry buddy, I’ll sand you down later today to smooth you out again.” She launches the next arrow, and before they knew it, the arrow stuck in Wilson’s pancreas again. “Wild,” she side eyes Krice with a sly little smile. She did her homework. The studious healer did not mess around when it came to knowledge, and Krice was the key that she had been looking for to open the archery chest. She was annoying how she caught onto things. The process is repeated several times, and the landing of the arrows in the pancreas happens again and again and again.

Krice seemed distracted when Penelope offered her side-glance and that sly smile. Perhaps he was simply so focused on her ability to hit the same spot on that poor dummy that he didn't take in anything else. He watched until the healer sent fifteen arrows directly into that one labelled organ and waited to see if she would shoot more, or stop. Did she keep count? Maybe she wanted to over-prove herself? Whatever the case, it was only once Penelope turned toward him that Krice spoke again.

Penelope’s arms began to feel tired after about arrow eight. Her arms are shaking, but she keeps her chest puffed to keep her arms steady. She continues sending the arrows, but each one gets slower and slower. More strength for her endurance is what she needed. The last couple of arrows that fly forward almost just barely hit the target she was aiming for due to the shakiness of her arms. She had to get to fifteen to continue their training process, and her forehead begins to create a cool sweat. Her breathing was a little unsteady. She just needed to jog more and lift heavier objects throughout the day. Her noodled arms lower as she lets out a puff of air. She faces Krice to tell him that she was finished. “Fifteen,” she then leans down towards her satchel to grab her canteen. The woman coughs a bit from the tiredness of just holding a bow still for a long time before downing some water.

Krice wasn't heartless. As Penelope began to tire, his overall demeanor softened with sympathy - and perhaps a bit of concern. He took one step forward once she was finished with all fifteen arrows and gazed down at the exhausted woman, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. " Is that the first time you've shot fifteen in a row?" One right after the other, at any rate. He reached out, offering with an open hand to relieve her of the weight of the bow.

Penelope might have only passed the test due to the determination of today. Her arms felt like fire. Why was she so weak? The most she had ever gotten was to ten. She gave herself a deadline. Two weeks. Today was the deadline. “Yes, but I wanted to move on. I’m tired of archery. I’ve been staring at Wilson for two weeks,” she was stubborn and the natural talent and luck was obnoxious. “Will you teach me hand to hand today? Please,” she breathes out as she finally gets control on her breath.

Krice frowned thoughtfully at Penelope. She used up the whole two weeks to reach that goal? He glanced over at the arrow-riddled Wilson, some of the shafts loose enough that they had fallen to the ground in the presence of others taking up the same space. The healer's request to learn hand to hand inspired a thoughtful scowl to the warrior's face and he shook his head. " You can't be sick of archery, Penelope. You have to keep your mind focused and level. Being bored of something means you'll lose what you learn about it. I can't move on to anything else if everything I help you with becomes a grey cloud in your head." A grey cloud of forgotten lessons.

Penelope might have had the most hot-headed teacher in the land, and Penelope was probably the most hot-headed student in all the land. The woman is like a child as she looks up at the sky in defeat. “I mean, like I –like- archery, Krice, I just have been working on it for two weeks, I just need a small break,” she almost says this like a whiny child to justify herself. “It won’t become a grey cloud, I promise. Especially because I want to be skilled with a weapon. I know the bow is my weapon, and I don’t want that to go away. I promise to practice with the bow, but the bow is all I know. I meant I want to move on to learn more. I do want to keep archery handy, of course. I know to always be open with it, but…” she then puts her hands on her hips. “Knowledge is not a grey cloud,” that was the truth. “I appreciate what you taught me. Especially because I wouldn’t have been able to do that,” she motions to Wilson in the background. “That was amazing, even to me. I’ve never done that. I value you, and I just know that I don’t pack my bow around all the time. Don’t you want me to get out of a bind if I don’t have a weapon handy?” What a guilt trip.

Krice sighed. He didn't often become frustrated--actually, it was practically rare for him--but Penelope was whining. She seemed to be listening but was she, really? Rather than try to argue the point, perhaps he thought it more appropriate to just follow with her request, even if he would need to backtrack later to remind her of things that she hastened to push aside once learned. There was very little space between them when he stopped, half an arm's length, and he lifted his right hand beneath her chin but did not make contact. "May I?"

Penelope normally did not whine especially when learning knowledge of healing. Perhaps that was why she stuck to that field. She was patient, and there was no whining that peeped from the woman. Combat gave her frustration and she wanted to push. He caves, however, and the whininess she once has disappears and her face looks more puzzled that he did not argue with her. Instead, he reaches out to place his hand beneath her chin, and he is offered a blank stare. “You may,” she agrees to it in her softer tone.

Krice waited for Penelope permission before he slipped his hand beneath her chin, his palm lightly against the top of her throat, thumb and fingers holding her jaw up in a gentle 'V'-grip. Applying enough pressure in his fingertips to keep her in place - comfortably - if she tried to break free. " If someone holds you like this--though in reality, you're not going to get much warning, or gentleness--how would you break free?"

Penelope stares at him with a firm gaze before her eyes trail down to where his hand is squeezing her jaw gently. She has to think momentarily and her eyes slowly dance around before looking back at the man. “Take my hand and knock their arm to get the grip off?” She then looks down and looks back up. “Or knee them in the groin? Kick them in the legs?” Fight or flight?

Krice's brow twitched slightly at Penelope's first suggestion, but something in his expression suggested agreement as she continued to speak. Opting to focus on the first, the warrior flexed his hand around her jaw gently, his skin warm despite the chill in the air, and he nodded to the toned curve of his forearm. " Do you think you could break my grip by knocking my arm?" If she tried, she'd find that he wouldn't budge. The warrior was stalwart in personality and solid in physique. She'd have to try something else.

Penelope did, in fact, try to knock his arm, and the man was, so sturdy, he did not budge. Are you joking? She observes again and a span of seconds pass by again as she trails in thought. Of course, she would be dead by now, passed out, whatever, so she was definitely in the basics. What about the legs? Or her legs? Her angle? They are face to face. The woman then begins to twist her hips perpendicular to where he stands. If the angle break does not work, she would try to tuck a leg around the backside of his legs to attempt to force him to bend his knees. Would that distract the opponent? This girl was as good as gone if she got caught in a situation like this. Yikes.

Krice really didn't want to give Penelope any leeway because this could potentially be a matter of her survival one day, but he also knew that very few humans who could attack her were as strong and skilled as him. It probably would have been reasonable to find a middle ground, but.. The twisting of her hips did nothing to his grip, but he was careful to make sure that whatever she did, he moved his hand with her head as necessary to avoid harming her. That was the only leeway she would receive from him, the softening of his hold so as not to jolt her in her attempts to break free. His leg remained steady when she kicked it, though the kick was stronger than punch and if she used enough force, she might feel the energy vibrate through his own limb. Otherwise, he didn't shift. Regarding her with a cool stare, the warrior said, " You're lucky we're friends."

Penelope gives him sort of an innocent smile, but also the frustration lingers on her brow. The woman is stuck trying to figure out her escape. “Hey, I’m just trying to figure this thing out,” she looks around again. What to do, what to do. After this time, she finally gives in and plays dead possum, the woman drops into a dead weight position. He was not holding her tight anyway, so she falls to the ground on purpose. Her tongue sticks out, her eyes are closed, and she is awfully dramatic. “Let the hash slinging strangler think you’re dead meat. Play dead?” Wow, she was not witty with self-defense. This was bad. Very bad.

Krice's chin lowered in an incomplete nod, acknowledging Penelope's comment that she was at least attempting to figure it out. When she dropped, he arched a brow but didn't let her hit the ground, moving his hand from where it had been under her chin, to slide that arm around the backside of her shoulders. Depending on how fast she fell, he would descend with her and end up in a crouch at her side, his palm curled around the back of her opposite shoulder. " Hash-slinging strangler?" He had no idea what that meant but it was irrelevant. " 'Playing dead' is useless if your attacker doesn't want you alive." He shook his head, using his other hand to pat the inside of his left thigh. " If it's a male, go for the groin." His lips curled into a wry half-smile. " It hurts - and he'll probably forget all about you to drop into a writhing ball." The warrior sighed and would withdraw his arm either once Penelope ceased her 'play dead' posture, or he lowered her to lie there on the ground.

Penelope felt him carry her weight, so she carries herself slightly again to take the weight off of him. “Fine, I won’t play dead,” pause. The woman looks at his inner thigh. “Well, I said that before with a dude. Groins yes,” she then paused. “But what about a chick? What if the hash slinging strangler was a Miss hash slinging strangler? I guess I was trying to… think outside the box.” She then eventually lowers to the ground anyway. “I have –never- been strangled. Only held in one of those… hostage positions,” this was true, and a cringed memory at that.

Krice didn't want Penelope's focus to be derailed by memories. While he was disconcerted by the fact that she had been held hostage before, he kept their attention on the task at hand; which was essentially avoiding that situation again. He squinted in bemusement, " Where are you getting this 'hash slinging strangler' from?"

Penelope shrugged at his questioning of her odd antics. “I read it in a comic once. A made up fable.” In conclusion, she liked to make light of serious situations. She then stands on her feet again. “Groin, check.” She then inhales. “Just not yours. I don’t think you would’ve liked that,” she says in a teasing tone. “If the choke was two hands, I would put my arms inside theirs and try to break the hold, if not… groin again, I’m guessing,” she observes mentally.

Krice rose when Penelope did, her answer inspiring a quizzical frown. Fables were not conducive to practicality in the real world. Anyway, he stood back from the woman to grant them both much needed space. He answered her 'guess' with a nod. " That's right. Always try the groin. When it comes to female attackers... Well, with any luck they won't be supernatural. Typically, your strength will be closer to theirs and a well-placed hit to the arm could work." He straightened his right arm and used his left hand to indicate weak points in the elbow. " Always closer to the crook, where the 'lock' is weakest." He then reached over to pat his elbow with the fullness of his left palm. " You can't break someone's hold by bending his or her arm beyond its range of motion - unless you're strong enough to break the bone itself, or harbour magic to do it."

Her eyes trail the man's joints. The weak spots of the elbow. Right, like she tried to do with his legs. She was trying to find the weak points in the back of his knee. She listens carefully and nods. With most opponents, she would not be strong, so weaker points, or groins were very acceptable to go by for rules. There was no way she would be able to break an arm. "Well, looks like bones will be intact for the most part then for the opponent." She then perches her lips in thought. "Duly noted, and that will take some... instinct practice, I guess. Because that took me a while to think about..." Beat. "What else are tricky holds I can get in? Or is it mostly just the neck?"

Krice wasn't negative in his judgment of Penelope, but at least to start with, he agreed that her ability to break bones was subpar. " Everything takes practice - until you don't need to think about it at all." He paused a moment, scrutinizing the small healer with a sweeping stare. Sunlight cascaded through the forest canopy, which shifted in light but consistent winds to spill warmth across the gold of his eyes. Concern was apparent there. " If someone wants you, he"--or she--"will grab you wherever he can grab you. The neck is the 'best' place because you can suffocate someone - not only to kill, but to incapacitate." The warrior moved toward Penelope to step around behind her. " Sometimes, enemies don't even try to grab. They just -attack-." He moved his arm at a leisurely pace from his side up to the bend in Penelope's neck where it met her shoulder, pressing the edge of his straight fingers against her skin. " And it come without warning. An attack right here will make you dizzy, because it interrupts blood flow to your head. That would be enough to finish you off."

Penelope noticed the shimmer of concern that crossed his gaze. She observes silently and nods her head in understanding. Of course. She felt sort of idiotic for the question prior. There were arms, legs, torso, clothing… anything desperate, really. As he talks about how patrons tend to just attack instead of grab, she understood this too. Some people are… well, chaotic. Krice moves to stick his fingers against her skin into the curve of her neck and her chin sort of tilts. She holds her breath for a moment. “So… I need to be fast, be aware, and be reactive.” She then sort of twists her lips. “I did buy a dagger,” she mentions briefly. “I actually have it hidden, but hopefully it would be enough time to grab it,” she observes the situation mentally. “I’m going to have to look in the library for a self-defense book, aren’t I? Look at the strategies… teach me the basics.”

Krice continued to study Penelope, something natural to him; he wanted to watch how she moved, even just how she -breathed-, to guage her level of focus. When she mentioned having a dagger, even concealing it, the warrior arched a brow which fell shortly after. " Do you know how to use it at all?" A person with a sharp weapon they had never handled before could be dangerous to himself. " The least you can do is read about techniques when we're not training, yeah. Fill your mind with all you can. Different people have different methods as well. The more information you get, the broader your understanding of things - the more likely you are to find your own style."

The girl was steady when he watched her movements. She was aware of his gaze. The woman would shift her eyes over at him. “I do, actually, know how to use it. I know how to throw it, attack with it. I’ve had to use one before,” she looks him up and down for a moment before continuing on. “Linken taught me, and that was something I… never let go. I felt like now that I’ve been training, I’ve needed an upgrade to a shinier and well-sharpened one. I never really use it unless I need to, or I’m practicing.” She paused. “That has really been the only self-defense mechanism. Training with a dagger was the only reason I was able to keep up with the battle to keep Lionel alive. Except, I used a meat cleaver instead. I realized my old dagger was too dull from the years,” she explains. The woman then nods along. “Then, I’ll refer to books. I’ll make sure of it.”

Krice's expression reflected that he was pleased to hear of Penelope's familiarity with a dagger - to the point that she had been able to use one in battle. That boded well for the rest of her training - at least where small blades were concerned. He noted her answer with a nod and gestured lazily. " Well, go ahead and withdraw your dagger." If she obliged, he would hold out his arms and add, " How would you hit me?"

Penelope had to take a moment to blink at him to register his request. “Oh—erm, right,” she then moves her hand to her backside where a dagger is hidden in a hidden sheath in her waist-band and shirt. The blade is a dark steel with some golden ringlets around the handle for better grip. As he holds out his hands, she says, “Well,” without hesitation, the woman pushes her hand against the weak spot of his bicep where the elbow is to push his arm back, while the hand with the blade would mock-cut his wrist, and if this works, as his bicep is back, she would move the blade quickly near his inner thigh, but actually not stabbing the dagger in his thigh. If she succeeds, she would look with him with a stern gaze to watch his next move. If not, well, she obviously had more to learn, but either way, the girl was not too shabby.

Krice had to remember that he was stronger and more tolerant than an average man. Penelope trying to outdo him was like a toddler trying to outmaneuver a vampire. As such, his task for this training was to intentionally make himself slower, to pretend like he didn't have evolution and years of training on his side. He was still faster than the norm, but the woman would find herself succeeding when she pushed his one arm back. The swipe to his wrist was met with the slightest twitch of that arm out of danger--though she didn't actually strike him--and a pivot on one foot angled his thigh away from her third movement. There he remained, relaxed but at the ready, and regarded his student with a speculative expression on his face. " Not terrible," he observed. " You said Linken taught you? Why didn't he teach you the bow?"

Penelope was pleased to see she was at least able to manage the first couple of movements. She nodded as she lowered her dagger. “Thank you,” she knew she had more learning to go, but she felt good from the praise. “He started teaching me the bow. That was when we started living with each other. Then,” pause. “I left him. I didn’t give myself the opportunity,” she shrugged. “So I guess the dagger always stuck.”

Krice nodded in acknowledgment of penelope's gratitude for his praise. Her story behind why Linken hadn't taught more combat to her seemed to cause just a hint of unease with the warrior, who averted his eyes briefly to the dagger in her hand; better to conceal whatever emotion lay within them if she couldn't see them directly. It was only a few seconds later than he looked at the healer once more. " Learning so many things at once, when you're not already combat-ready, is going to be overwhelming. You risk losing skill in all three as well." If she chose to perform with the bow, a dagger, -and- just her fists. " Which of the two weapons feels most comfortable right now?"

The healer nodded to the man as he suggests that learning three different strategies would be too much for her right now. The woman would silently agree, but only because she was balancing the learning of healing along the way as well. “The dagger for sure,” she would confess. The Ardelian would then wait in thought. Hands or the bow? She looks down at her hands for a moment. “The bow,” she says this sternly to her teacher. “I’m not ready for hand-to-hand yet, and I want to grow in improvement on the others. I always carry a dagger anyway, so the hand-to-hand could wait.”

Penelope keeps her dagger down, but uses her pointer finger to point out vital areas of a target. “Well,” she steps closer to him and first she points near his armpit, but nearing his chest. “Right here is an artery, so if I cut here, the more blood will be lost,” her finger then traces down his arm, but the finger does not touch him. “In this area,” she nears his elbow, “is an artery that splits off into two other arteries in your hand. Also, veins in the wrist, but the worst one is probably the one near the armpit,” she shrugs. She then moves to the neck. “Neck arteries,” she then moves to the torso. “Heart and coronary arteries,” her hand does a zigzag across his torso. “And of course femoral artery in your leg.” She then smiles. “Or, I can just go for the groin again. Like the strangling situation. Their choice really.” She appears smart in her words, but she has a cringing looking look. “I’m pretty good at identifying weak points, but just making sure I –actually- am able to follow through. But really, there are weak points everywhere, so I have a decent chance of hitting something.”

Krice appeared to suffer an uncharacteristic leap in emotion when Penelope pointed to the location of his brachial artery, his confidence faltering, that arm bending ever so slightly almost in subconscious self-defence. He regained composure before completely losing it, though, and waited for her to point to all the other vital places in a humanoid's body. He lowered the arm she didn't use to exhibit her knowledge, lowering his other one once she was done. Standing in a relaxed posure, the warrior nodded. " The groin is more often than not a good way to break free from your captor - or distract long enough to at least get a head start." His brows furrowed; he didn't really want to think about any woman in any dangerous situation, particularly non-fighter friends, but hey - it happened, occasionally. " By the time we're done, you'll have a better understanding of how to follow through."

Penelope narrowed her brows in puzzlement as he began to mock suffer for her, but then the woman managed a smile each weakened place she touched base on. She assumed the groin was probably one of the better choices if she was attacked in a dangerous situation. “Perfect. Shall we resume, or post-pone for another meeting?”

Krice hadn't been mock-suffering, but perhaps it was for the best that Penelope thought so. When she enquired about continuing her training, he shrugged a shoulder and arched both brows. " Depends. Are you ready for more?"

The apprentice gives him a side glance in contemplation for a moment or two. "I think we can pause our training here," the herbalist says while looking at the changing sky. "I have some bandages to change, and some appointments lined up as well. We can push our training and I'll send word again, is that fair?" She quirks a brow with a small innocent smile. The workaholic did have duties to attend to.

Krice considered Penelope's suggestion only as she spoke it; when she finished, he was ready with a reply. " Sounds fair," he echoed, complete with a nod. " Remember, patience and persistence are the key. You can't learn anything if you rush through it, nor if you don't practice." The warrior sent a casual glance at their surroundings, noting the shifting shadows with the progression of the day, and added, " Don't be too hasty to help Linken. His passenger is a powerful one, and you can't help anybody if it tries to kill you."

Penelope stares at Krice for a long moment. He was right, and she had patience for many skills, but combat was one of the trickier ones. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll continue practicing with the bow and the dagger. I’ll also make sure I stop at the library for some books on the topics.” The woman was very visual and tactile, so reading and then practicing was the best solution for her. As Linken is mentioned, she can feel an aching in her stomach. Guilt, for fear of death was never an issue for her. The woman felt guilty of the worries of others about the situation. Death was not scary to her, but others feared her own life being taken. “I’ll keep my distance, as promised. I acknowledge and cherish your concern, Krice. I really do.” The woman then puts her dagger back in the hilt attached to her jeans. “Why do you think I want this training so bad?” The herbalist managed a small smile to keep the topic light. “I’ll keep you updated. Thank you, Krice. I’ll see you soon, and that is a promise,” so she had to keep her promise, right? With the last statement, she begins to slowly back pedal while still facing him before waving and pivoting to try to walk away through the bright treeline.

Krice was attentive as ever to Penelope when she spoke, acknolwedging with a nod her dedication to her training. Books were a good way to rest the body while allowing the mind to keep learning. His expression turned wistfully understanding as she correlated this training to her want to help Linken; he understood that, perhaps better than other people might have. When the woman began her departure, the warrior nodded again and called, " Take care. Be vigilant." He lifted a hand with fingers pointed vertically to direct her line of sight. " Stay aware of your surroundings." With that, he watched her until she turned, at which point he would divert his own path to walk in the opposite direction, patrolling the forest on his way out.