Eventually, the sound of clashing metal drew her attention, and she took a left turn, following the echoing noise. She came to the indoor training room. Smaller than the courtyards the knights and the guards normally used but still fully equipped. It was there she saw the human, flailing wildly at a training dummy with a glaive. He was clumsy, swinging the polearm haphazardly and inefficiently, his face contorted with the effort. She stood there, a light smile crossing her avian features as she watched the human struggle. Credit where credit was due, he was trying his best, but the glaive, she thought, just wasn't his weapon. Neither was the hammer, she considered. Admittedly, he wielded it with some skill, but his flailing left himself open way too often than would be survivable in a real fight against somegriffon like her.