by Yarrin on February 14th, 2011, 5:25 am
(No worries. I understand all about new jobs and new schedules. This week has been ridiculously busy for me, too. How does one make OOC text like that?))
Oh. She was an Endal ...?
He’d run into more than his usual share of those lately, well, at least outside of his normal work-related activities. Sira didn’t quite seem to fit the expected mold, however. He blinked for a long moment before returning the introduction,
“Name’s Yarrin.” He accepted the wooden blade with a lopsided sort of grin, testing its weight in one calloused hand, “Well, I’m a bowyer by trade, but I can’t say I haven’t done a bit of fighting now and then ... just, uh, not always with a sword.” The slight off angle of his nose was a possible confirmation of his blatantly unashamed admission. The Avora seemed satisfied with both the practice weapon and the invitation, “I’ve made my last bow for the day.”
There was always something for him to do back at the shop, but he wasn’t opposed to a diversion. Fighting? And ladies? Well, lady. Yes, this was a far, far better ending to a day than sweeping up wood chips or drying more bowstrings. He wasn’t about to turn down a potentially entertaining opportunity, even if he was willing to swing a stick at it. Er. A sword. At her.
“I’m fairly certain the least I could offer would be a bit more challenging than the practice dummy’s usual fair.” Yarrin laughed, hardly self-depreciating, though he would be the first to admit there were other things he was better at than close combat. Sadly, it just wasn’t the weather for archery.