Final Form

Cillian pursed his lips and shook his head, his helmet rattling as he did so, "I'm... I'm working right now."

Taree Kimura wiggled a tiny finger, "I'll give you permission to take a break. Maybe a leg this time?" 

"I'll pass," The back of Cillian's neck was soaked in sweat. A few moons prior, he had underestimated the teenage girl's strength. 

His arm was nearly torn out of its socket. 

Even with magical assistance, it took him over a moon to heal. Because of that incident, he had been planning his training times specifically to avoid overlapping with hers. 

Taree shrugged, her smile as bright as polished ivory, "The best way to get better is to get your butt kicked. A lot."

Cillian grimaced, involuntarily taking a step backward. 

While the girl's words sounded like it made sense, that was absolutely not true when the butt-kicker was Taree.