Ra'a'mah stood opposite him for a quiet moment, her gaze resting on the familiar figure across the ring while the sounds of the gardens settled around them. A smile, small but unmistakably genuine, found its way onto her face as she folded her hands loosely before her.
"You know," she said, almost more to herself than to him, "we've fought beside one another for decades."
Her eyes drifted briefly toward the ring beneath their feet before returning to Vulpesen.
"We've planned campaigns together, escaped more disasters than I care to count, saved each other's lives often enough that I've lost track..." A soft laugh escaped her. "And somehow we never stopped long enough to discover what the other actually fought like."
The realization was amusing in hindsight. Two veterans who knew each other's judgment, temperament, and resolve almost instinctively, yet neither had ever stood opposite the other with a weapon in hand.
Her fingers settled around the hilt of the golden saber at her hip, drawing it free in one smooth motion before resting its weight comfortably across both palms. She made no move to ignite it.
"I suppose there was never much reason to."
The statement carried no regret. If anything, it was gratitude. Every battle they had shared had been fought shoulder to shoulder rather than face to face.
She inclined her head ever so slightly.
"So..." The corner of her mouth lifted. "Do we pretend we're strangers for the next few minutes, or do we acknowledge that you already know half my habits and I know at least as many of yours?"
There was warmth behind the question, the easy familiarity reserved for someone who had earned her trust long ago.
"I should warn you," she added with quiet amusement, "I've had a very long time to observe your footwork."
With that, she thumbed the activator.
The golden staff sprang to life with its familiar snap-hiss, casting warm light across the polished stones of the sparring circle. Rather than taking an aggressive stance, she settled into a relaxed Jar'Kai-ready posture despite holding only the staff for the moment, balanced lightly on the balls of her feet with the unmistakable ease of someone who viewed combat less as violence and more as conversation.
"Whenever you're ready, old friend."
Vulpesen