A few minutes later, and he was striding out of his quarters towards the Training Yard. He played with the ring on his finger without thinking about it. His mind was instead lost to thought, picturing his desk with the two swords lain across it. He knew that every aspiring Warder needed to learn how to fight unarmed, and he thought this was a good day to begin. He had already resolved to see about Healing after this, and that also played on his mind. He hadn't yet been touched by the One Power, and he wasn't sure how wary he should be of that forthcoming experience.
The air was crisp as he stepped out from the warmth of the foyer. He half moved to wrap an arm around his torso, before stopping himself. The cold wasn't actually too bad for the Borderlands, although it probably was out of the ordinary this far south. A grimace established itself on Rav's face, one that spoke of loss and misery. He moved with a slower gait towards the yard.
Time passed, and he had taken a seat without thinking, and realised he was sat on the perimeter of the yard. Other drin' and ji' were working out, some under the guidance of gaidin and gaidar, some not. A few were practicing by themselves, and others were stripped to the waist with sweat gleaming off their bodies. There were clearly others unused to such frosty conditions; he could hear chattering teeth from further down the bench. He smirked at that.
His eyes darted around the yard, looking for a distraction. He happened upon a man wearing the distinctive silver pin of a Dedicated. That in itself wasn't unusual; plenty of channellers worked with weapons. What was unusual is that Ravak couldn't place the man. He knew he wasn't well travelled by any stretch of the imagination, but he had read often enough, and he had met with traders from all parts, but none of that knowledge helped him with the Dedicated. He was of a decent height, which also didn't aid in identifying the man's origin. Brown hair was common anywhere and- Light, just ask the man.
Rav pulled himself to his feet, and picked his way across the yard. The other reason he had fixed upon the man is that he was practicing unarmed, striking blows that made Rav wince. He could half picture himself on the receiving end of those strikes.
Rav cleared his throat as he approached, making sure the Dedicated didn't hit him preemptively. "Apologies for the interruption, Dedicated. I see you are honing some unarmed forms, and I would appreciative of some education." He twisted the last word, letting it come across in two ways. He gave a slight bow now that he was safe from an errant strike.
