In spite of himself, he grins. He tells himself it's only because the mage can't see it anyway, but he can't entirely erase it from his voice.
"I can't promise I'll make a habit of being awake at arse o'clock in the morning," he says, "but if I happen to be, I'll bring a proper practice blade along and make you really work for it."
He's aware that any stronger trash talk might be ill-advised, no matter how jesting the intent. It's no mystery why Myr might be self-conscious about his hard-learned skills, reluctant to keep honing them for a goal that Simon knows as well as anyone is likely impossible. But professions like theirs don't have to be an all-or-nothing deal; he's learning that slowly. One isn't simply a templar or not, a knight-enchanter or not, as if the title is everything and the training inconsequential.
He tosses the pole lightly aside and reaches down to help Myr up, though it takes a second's thought before he realizes what little good it will do if Myr can't see him doing it. "Here, give me your hand."
no subject
"I can't promise I'll make a habit of being awake at arse o'clock in the morning," he says, "but if I happen to be, I'll bring a proper practice blade along and make you really work for it."
He's aware that any stronger trash talk might be ill-advised, no matter how jesting the intent. It's no mystery why Myr might be self-conscious about his hard-learned skills, reluctant to keep honing them for a goal that Simon knows as well as anyone is likely impossible. But professions like theirs don't have to be an all-or-nothing deal; he's learning that slowly. One isn't simply a templar or not, a knight-enchanter or not, as if the title is everything and the training inconsequential.
He tosses the pole lightly aside and reaches down to help Myr up, though it takes a second's thought before he realizes what little good it will do if Myr can't see him doing it. "Here, give me your hand."