<strong>Who:</strong>Henrik Raubriter<br/><strong>For:</strong>Open, Chiya specifically<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Outside sparring ring, moving to the track<br/><br/>"I know." He responded, quietly. "It works only in some situations. As I'm sure you know, in the end, it's all about figuring out what will and won't work; doing the first, and avoiding the latter."  He knew that was basic, not just for fighting, but in anything, really.<br/><br/>"Hmm, six? I think I might be able to last a minute against that kind of onslaught." There was just the briefest flicker of humor in his voice; the first real sign of his capacity to feel anything but calm. But, it was only barely there, for a singular moment, before it faded into nothingness.<br/><br/>"I'm poor with magic, but that does mean I could use some experience with it. When I have some time, I'll be sure to take you up on that offer." He would watch her head off, and then turned his attention to the belt around his pants. He undid a clasp on the scabbard, and attached it around a portion of belt, before re-clasping it. The scabbard was now secured to his belt.<br/><br/>He would head off to the track, and just as he said he would, began to run some laps.