With a sigh, Wolfram bows towards his fellow Monk as he leaves before turning to the masked warrior and -blind? Yes, blind- young man. "If you are serious about training, you might see Sir Leonard, one of our heads of the guard. At this point in the day he's probably coughing his way through the gardens."<br/><br/>Calmly taking the proffered papers, Wolfram quickly scans them. "Hmm... I see. It is always a pleasure to greet a disciple of one of our sister temples seeking knowledge. May I ask what particlars you studied before coming here? Your papers failed to say."<br/><br/>____________________________________________________________________<br/><br/>The squirrel barrels past the hammer, slamming past Valenti into the shed and smashing the bottles therein. The fluids cause it to sizzle and steam slightly, its fur turning black at the tips, but if anything it is merely made more enraged. The arrow that follows into its side -Valenti having ducked out of the way- does much the same. But at the sound of alarms and thunderous footsteps it's burning gaze locks on the armored man dashing towards it with a heavy growl, leaping forwards to charge heedlessly at him.