23rd Day of Spring, 510 A.V. Jaeden was once again within the forest of Cobalt mountain. Recent events found him even more unpopular with Slavers and the idea of staying out of the brush and in the Bathhouse for the time being seemed ideal. However, he still wanted to get a little time out in nature before he found himself being overwhelmed by the masses and crowds of the city itself. A subtle amount of chirps from birds and distant howls set his mind at ease as a light breeze ruffled the budding leaves along tree branches all around. The light of the day was just a quarter way through it’s cycle, leaving plenty of time for Jaeden to concentrate on his training for the day. A small fire, with the sounds of snaps and pops as word burned, mixed with the natural sounds that the forest provided as a light haze of smoke lingered upward for a moment before being carried off by the breeze. Jaeden’s tent had already been erected not far away, providing a place to take a nap later in the day if the mood hit him right. His back, along with his other gear, laid to the right of his tent, as his shirt and leather armor laid overtop of it. Jaeden stood in the center of camp, as slight grunts escaped his lips, the last of the sounds found in the area. Jaeden held upon his shoulders, the log of a tree. It measured close to five feet long and about two feet thick. His hands were slipped into holes that had been carved halfway through the log using his woodman‘s ax. Such allowed him to better keep the log balanced as he exhaled another grunt and grit his teeth, hoisting the log over his head slowly as the muscle along his shoulders, arms and back rippled beneath his skin. A moderate sweat had already been built up, as his body had a slight shine to it in the patches of the sun’s light, being filtered through the canopy of trees. It almost looked as though he had been at his trained for two chimes of the bell, and it would likely take a decent distraction to break such a momentum. |