Earline
The man's movements became fluid and precise as he practiced with them both. He began to more easily transition between the two spells of his. The practice weapon of his still holding up which was good. Zeni wanted to get to a new level of strength with these two spells specifically. They were the only spells he knew at the moment but even if they weren't he'll focus on them. He simply felt like he had some Synergy with them as if they were meant for him. Which is he kept going until his mp lowered to the point where he couldn't go no more. (1 gravira, 1 reflera)***
Kevin
Yosuke was back in this damn desert, but this time with his training weapon. He'd come to the desert with a bit of eagerness to train. Gripping the handle of his weapon, he felt a surge of determination, ready to face the challenges the desert presented. The sand beneath his boots crunched as he moved, the vastness of the landscape stretching out before him.

In the relentless sun, Yosuke began his training routine, the weapon slicing through the air with each practiced movement. The desert, though harsh, became his training ground, the solitude and quietude fueling his focus. Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the fine layer of sand that clung to his skin.

As he executed precise strikes and parries, Yosuke's initial eagerness transformed into a deep sense of purpose. The desert, unforgiving and unyielding, mirrored the challenges he sought to overcome. Each swing of his training weapon became a step towards mastery, a dance in the arid landscape.

The echoes of his strikes reverberated in the vast emptiness of the desert, a testament to his dedication. Yosuke welcomed the physical exertion, finding a strange solace in the rhythmic flow of his training. In the midst of the desert's harsh beauty, he embraced the discipline required to hone his skills, knowing that every moment spent in this unforgiving terrain brought him closer to his goal. Anyways he'd take a small water break and look up at the sky, twirling his weapon.

Alright, water break over, Yosuke would grab his weapon and continue at it. With a refreshed determination, he swung his weapon through the air, the metallic swoosh cutting through the desert silence. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he focused on perfecting each movement, the training weapon an extension of his purpose.

The desert's heat bore down on him, but Yosuke pressed on, the challenge of the environment adding an extra layer to his training. The sun cast long shadows across the sand as he moved with a mix of precision and fluidity, the repetition ingraining the motions into muscle memory.

In the absence of a cheering audience or a training partner, Yosuke found motivation within himself. The solitude of the desert became a companion to his relentless pursuit of improvement. The wind carried away the echoes of his strikes, leaving only the quiet determination that fueled his efforts.

Afterwards Yosuke would just collpase, he was done for the day. Along with the workout he'd also train his block and flash step.
Frank
``` A Similar but Unfamiliar Wasteland ```
Of all the places the dinosaur could've ended up, it just *Had* To be a desert. Gursht has seen enough deserts in his life already, why did he have to get lost in another one?

Well, no use in crying now; in an environment like this water was a priority. The longer he sulked the less chance he had of surviving out here. So forth he marched into the unknown, heading bravely(Or begrudgingly) deeper into the desert.

It was hours before he saw any signs of life, and with the sun beating down on him so harshly anything was a welcome sight at this point. He came across a herd of animals that walked upon four stilt-like legs and were covered fur; they were called... Camels, if he recalled properly? They weren't very good conversationalists, but they seemed to know where they were going. So Gursht decided it was best to follow them, as animals of the desert knew where water could be found. He trailed behind the group, keeping his distance as to not unsettle them further than he already had.

The sun had climbed to the 4pm point of the day, the hottest point according to some calendars and damn did Gursht feel it. Had he not been so thickly-scaled, the sun would surely be damaging his skin. He can already feel patches of scales flaking off just by how hot and dry it was out here. Keeping his crest turned away from the beating heat helped some, but it'll only help for so much longer.