.
.
At first, Shadyn was pleased with how eager she was to learn, and to try to explain things to him. When she said, “Some actions mean scrambled,” Shadyn had to work extremely hard to keep himself from bursting forth laughing. Still, he did manage to maintain mastery over his expression…albeit he did have to rub his mouth in supposed contemplation to cover the fact that he could not entirely suppress a smile. She took well to learning how to move the tomahawk, and was appropriately awed at his demonstration of its abilities and his own prowess.
What he was not so fond of was her own practicing with it. For a few minutes, he tolerated it uncomfortably, opening his mouth to stop her, but he couldn’t actually get himself to speak. When she coiled up to throw it, he spasmodically fluttered his hands up and rubbed his face. As it flipped into the ground inches from her foot, he slid his hands back down his face, closing his eyes in relief. As she reached to grab it yet again, his jaw went slack and his mouth went into an “o” of shock, one hand slowly creeping up to cover his mouth. As she let it drop behind her, his face jerked through an expression of immense relief and he dashed forward to grab her hand to restrain her from using again.
She was curious, and just wanted to learn, but trying to throw the tomahawk without practice with a blunt blade first could be quite harmful…if only to herself. Especially since his blade was obsidian. Most people that he had met kept their blades quite sharp, but Arrmal had taught him that a well-crafted obsidian blade could be many, many times sharper than the sharpest metal blade could ever be, aside from the use of magic. One throw that did not end well and she could easily be short a whole appendage. That was not something that he wanted to happen. Besides, while the blade was quite strong in most ways, if she accidentally applied even a touch too much torsion to it, it would snap.
As he grabbed her hand, he smiled weakly. “If you want to learn, I can teach you. But please do not practice with this…EXTREMELY dangerous weapon. One wrong move and you are short a foot…a hand…a leg…or hurt someone else. This is a war weapon, not learning weapon.”
Shadyn slowly took the tomahawk from her, grabbed the sheath from where he had laid it, and replaced it where it belonged on his waist. He hoped she would understand that he did that for her own good, primarily.
.
.
.
.
At first, Shadyn was pleased with how eager she was to learn, and to try to explain things to him. When she said, “Some actions mean scrambled,” Shadyn had to work extremely hard to keep himself from bursting forth laughing. Still, he did manage to maintain mastery over his expression…albeit he did have to rub his mouth in supposed contemplation to cover the fact that he could not entirely suppress a smile. She took well to learning how to move the tomahawk, and was appropriately awed at his demonstration of its abilities and his own prowess.
What he was not so fond of was her own practicing with it. For a few minutes, he tolerated it uncomfortably, opening his mouth to stop her, but he couldn’t actually get himself to speak. When she coiled up to throw it, he spasmodically fluttered his hands up and rubbed his face. As it flipped into the ground inches from her foot, he slid his hands back down his face, closing his eyes in relief. As she reached to grab it yet again, his jaw went slack and his mouth went into an “o” of shock, one hand slowly creeping up to cover his mouth. As she let it drop behind her, his face jerked through an expression of immense relief and he dashed forward to grab her hand to restrain her from using again.
She was curious, and just wanted to learn, but trying to throw the tomahawk without practice with a blunt blade first could be quite harmful…if only to herself. Especially since his blade was obsidian. Most people that he had met kept their blades quite sharp, but Arrmal had taught him that a well-crafted obsidian blade could be many, many times sharper than the sharpest metal blade could ever be, aside from the use of magic. One throw that did not end well and she could easily be short a whole appendage. That was not something that he wanted to happen. Besides, while the blade was quite strong in most ways, if she accidentally applied even a touch too much torsion to it, it would snap.
As he grabbed her hand, he smiled weakly. “If you want to learn, I can teach you. But please do not practice with this…EXTREMELY dangerous weapon. One wrong move and you are short a foot…a hand…a leg…or hurt someone else. This is a war weapon, not learning weapon.”
Shadyn slowly took the tomahawk from her, grabbed the sheath from where he had laid it, and replaced it where it belonged on his waist. He hoped she would understand that he did that for her own good, primarily.
.
.
.
