Private Measured and Weighed

[Ghruna]

Naamino Zuukamano

The sparring hall was always busy. Along one wall was a rank of training sabers, designed to sting rather than cut. Along the other was the waiting area. Any acolyte watching could be drawn into the arena. Only full Knights could walk through the crowds in the robes and observe uninterrupted.

There were several rings, but they were simple circles on the shallow sand. Fights could turn nasty, blood could be spilled. Some of the sand was already dark.

Ghruna knew she was supposed to be learning technique. She had been told it more than once.

The air smelled of sweat and ozone, the residue of earlier sessions still clinging to the space. The sparring sabers rarely burned clean.

She walked away from her last fight, kicking the sand in anger. Losing the last sparring match, she had turned it into a grapple. Rolling in the sand, others had intervened and dragged them apart. She had - in no uncertain terms - been declared the loser.

She rolled her shoulders once, loosening muscle, and waited.

"Cool off and you can go again," someone told her.

She barred her teeth and stalked away. Embarassment that she wouldn't admit had turned to a flash of hot rage. Anger needed to be controlled. She had been told that enough times too.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Naami had decided to stay a while on Desevro. Not long of course, but enough to really get the lay of the land and have something substantial to report back to his Master in the Order. It didn’t hurt that he’d missed his fellow Badawans Lys and Varin badly. So of course he sought out ways to stay busy, and training never ended when one was a Sith Apprentice. Not until he’d mastered every form demanded of him and unlocked his every Force ability would he be satisfied.

Icy blue eyes observed the sparring hall, cold observation and haughty judgement forthcoming for most of what he saw. Naamino could rarely find his equal amongst students anymore.

Ghruna’s match that devolved into wrestling caught his attention. Like a patient Tuk’ata stalking prey he witnessed the intervention and the way the big horned woman stalked away. There was someone that might test his skills, might benefit from his time as a teacher’s assistant too. It didn’t hurt his opinion of her that she had horns. Not as noble as a zabrak, surely, but there was some small kinship to be found in all horned folk.

Pushing off the wall, he strode parallel to her for a bit until an opening in the hallway meant that he could approach her for a spar without disrupting others.

”Oi!” Naami called in a deep, barking voice.

”You don’t look like you want a break. Have a go at me? I can handle it.”

 

[Ghruna]

Ghruna took a moment to react. She hadn't gone far. Far enough to kick some sand in anger again.

Ghruna was still working breath back into her chest. She stopped mid-stride and looked back at Naamino Zuukamano

There was a flash of annoyance at first.

You can handle it can you?

Then she remembered his hunting prowess. He had seemed assured of himself then as he did now. Even if he was small and had tiny, pointless horns.

"I don't," she said plainly to his first remark.

Her gaze flicked to the sparring circles for a moment finding a free space, then returned to him.

She stepped closer and looked down at him. He was actually quite broad, muscular across the arms. Her tail swayed once before she stilled it again.

"I do not pull blows," she warned. He had seen her fight and lose, but she couldn't help the bravado.

She straightened and squared her shoulders. He looked more balanced that her. Maldrani kept growing until they were in their middle years, even females. She looked gangly at her height at eighteen.

She turned and headed for a free circle.

Oi… draun, na oi khraun she muttered on her way.

She stood at the coarse stone line rising from the sand and drew the training lightsaber. She thumbed it on. Like her own, it was a long blade with a half and a half sized grip.

She held it in a mid guard, but had adapted to point the tip of the blade a little lower.

"Ready?"