Donald
"A dishonored blade? How can that be? A sword is a sword; a tool. The true show of merit is the wielder. Should the wielder kill; his is the killer. Should the wielder protect; he is the protector."

*Ling takes a look at Ringer, nodding.*

"This is a good sword. Sharp, strong. I was never a straight person myself; though thrusting is often associated with nimbleness, I didn't like the far too direct line of attack."
Shelley
"I believe she said something about 'taking the wrong life'... Perhaps she dishonoured herself with an innocent life?"
*Circine continued, examining Ling's blades from his resting spot. He knew of living swords, of the **Murasame,** And **Excalibur,** But not of common swords with such spirits.*
"The curved blade is troublesome for me - a shorter curve is fine, but with my stature... Well, you can imagine."
*The centaur made a quiet whinny as he relaxed - now attempting to conceal his embarrassment from making such a sound.*
"The spirits that accompany me had lead me in this direction, now that I recall. Sometimes my intuition and their influence overlap, you see. They do not lead me to blunder without reason, I wonder for what purpose they did this...?"
Donald
"Hm. How so? That is an understandable cause for self-imposed dishonor. It shows a lack of self control, or a lack of awareness."

"I think long, curved weapons can fit a centaur quite well. The momentum you can generate makes the cuts powerful. Then again, basically every weapon besides a dagger is powerful in the centaur's hands."

*Ling takes another bite of the sausage. It was very well salted, not overly done.*

"I'm not sure. Maybe they just sensed my greatness."

*Ling spreads her arms to show that she's joking. While she __was__ incredibly arrogant, being an ass about it wasn't the best idea.*
Shelley
"You flatter me, madam. But yes, I would say that would be dishonourable enough..."
*He thought on this a moment, flourishing his longsword and examining its edge, before putting it away. He gave a light chuckle to her jest, yet the sense of power he felt from her didn't fade.*
"Perhaps it is more true than you suggest, madam. What were you doing out here, anyway? Not many take strolls in their war gear."
Donald
"Oh, just practice. Wielding two swords isn't easy, and there's still things I need to know."

*Ling brings out a thick scroll, showing artworks of a figure wielding two swords. He seems to be manipulating the wind around him.*

"It's something called 'kata' or 'form'. It's a series or a single move or technique that's written down so that it can more easily be passed down to others. Only problem is, it's hard to interpret them."
Shelley
"Ah... I've seen things like this. My master called them forms as well and gave each one a name - referring to an animal."
*Circine nodded in recognition, leaning in to take a closer look at the scrolls.*
"Was it magic, the gentleman in the scroll used?"
Donald
"I've heard of fighting styles related to animals. Tiger, Crane, and... Dragon. Whatever that is."

*Ling takes another look at the scroll.*

"I'm pretty sure it is, yes."

*Slowly drawing her blade, Ling's blade glows white. A swing at a random tree creates an arc of wind, creating a shallow cut in the bark. The macen sheathes the blade once again.*
Shelley
*The centaur gasped in awe, eyes wide at the cut - surprised at how closely it matched his master's technique.*
"Incredible! Similar to a skill I have learnt from my tribe, I believe..."
*He clambered to his feet, unsheathing his sword and resting the blade on his shoulder. The edge glowed with an emerald sheen, the glow extending up into a crescent off the tip. He swung hard, the crescent slashing the same tree in the opposite direction, creating a far shallower cut. He sighed, sheathing his blade and shrugging to Ling as he settled again.*
"My Air Blade is of little comparison to yours, as I would expect..."
Donald
"Huh! I see you've learned some as well, though it differs in color. A little weaker, but that's ok. I've dedicated my whole life to this."

*Ling almost says it boastfully, as if attempting to flaunt. She finishes the rest of the sausage and vegetables, wiping her hands on some grass.*

"So an archer and a swordsman. How different is it, fighting from such a high place?"
Shelley
"Hm... It has its benefits. Aiming my bow is different to a normal archer, I may have to aim it lower. But the strength from my lower body makes it far easier to draw. Here, try to pull this."
*Circine pulled out his selfbow, sitting straight and drawing back the string, the flat yew curving into a generous curve, the release of the string twanging loudly. He then offered it to her, wearing a curious smirk.*
Donald
"Hm."

*Ling stands up, accepting the bow in her right hand. She tries to pull it back, but her left hand only reaches up to her bicep before her arms start shaking. Carefully, she lets the bow's limbs returned into its relaxed state. She did not want the bowstring snapping into her arm.*

"Damn, that's a strong bow. As you can see, I am *Not* That strong."
Shelley
"On the contrary... Most can't pull it back more than a digit. Colour me thoroughly impressed, Ling."
*He replied, sitting straight in second-hand pride - his people's instruments of war were famous for the raw strength required to wield them, even the strongest longbowman having trouble firing more than a half-dozen arrows before bruising themselves. To see a swordsman, while a similar strength nowhere near the honed power of an archer, even strain the wood was a feat unto itself.*
"Not many have touched these weapons, especially that bow. From my father to me, and those are the only hands that have touched it. Consider it an honour."
*He continued, truly holding no real importance to who touched his weapons - but knew that a level of pride was supposed to be had for your trusted armaments.*
Donald
"Well. I have to be fit in order to be a swordswoman."

*Ling shakes her arms off to relax them.*

"Honor accepted. Though I would much rather be known for my blades."

"What exactly do you do? Are you a hunter?"
Shelley
*Another light chuckle, the centaur enjoying her forthrightness.*
"Not primarily, no. I'm a mercenary, where there are jobs, and a minstrel when there are not."
*He explained, producing his plain flute and twirling it between his fingers.*
"And yourself? You seem as if you would be a samurai, or similar."
Donald
"Oh, another mercenary. There tends to be a lot of them these days, huh."

*Ling rolls her eyes at the mention of samurai.*

"Oh, don't get me started on them. Samurai follow a code of conduct and serve under a master, loyal. The closest thing I've had was a sensei. Samurai is also a status; you have to be born into one. I was no such child. I'm just... Another mercenary, an ashigaru. Often they are considered below samurai as they are not as disciplined. However, I think I could beat a large number of samurai."