<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-weight: bold">General Wolfhart</span> // <span style="color: #FFFF80">Dining Hall</span></div><br/><br/>Bren flinched with the djinni's touch.  It didn't make him feel better, whatever it was he was trying to accomplish with the motion.  Despite the minor discomfort, he listened to what Aurion had to say, finding it far more important than his mimicry of human gestures.  He nodded to himself, satisfied to have his observations affirmed by his peers.  It often did him well to know he wasn't being overzealous by pointing the blame at magic.  It wasn't uncommon of him, after all.<br/><br/>He tried to relax, but was finding it difficult to even sit still.  He forced a deep breath to collect himself.  Maybe they were right, and it would do him well to view this situation with a cleared conscious.  One cannot rightly evaluate a battlefield when they can see only blood.  As much as he was reserved about the djinn, Bren had to admit he did possess a sharp mind, and was far easier able to act as a tactician where Bren preferred to charge in spear-first.  Oh how he valued these two.  What a complicated relationship.<br/><br/>He released his breath and thanked Aurion for his thoughts with his usual nod.  He turned his attention on the king.  Indeed, they hadn't sparred in some time.  He could do with a good duel now; there was no better way to relieve stress than to hit things, and it was all the better if they hit back.  A small, very subtle smile pulled at his lips.  It was commonly known that Bren did not take sparring lightly.  He really did go all-out, and if it weren't Allistair, he wouldn't be allowed to spar with his king at all as he might... damage him.<br/><br/>"Very well," he spoke, feeling his mood lifting only just.  "Would Aurion prefer to<span style="font-style: italic">spectate</span>or shall we use sticks to duel?"