freya, on the other hand, knows murderous intent. she has thrown herself against slim odds and stood proud in the face of impending doom. she's suffered because of it - twisted limbs and a lifetime of nightmares, but mossdeep still stands in part because of her. there are lives, unbeknownst to her, that have been touched by her sacrifices. 

not as many as there should be. her abandonment still haunts her. but she atones. she will always atone. 

part of that atonement is answering these calls. she arrives in lavaridge, not with a sword but with a bow. her companion is hard to miss - one, because freya is still irritated with her stunt from a few weeks ago and two, because she's holding a shield.

"ranger myrtle," she says as she approaches. she offers a thin smile. "i'm curious why you chose me for this training exercise."

francie myrtle

☉

when francie mentions freya's bow, she looks down at it. sleek silver with rubber grips currently gripped by her thin hands. her quiver hangs off of her hip. at first glance, the bow might seem more impressive than the nondescript quiver and it will more than likely stay that way throughout this fight. no sense wasting any of her resources, and during a friendly fight to boot. 

she laughs at francie's explanation, if somewhat bitterly. 

"my advice? don't get in those situations." her cheek still houses a small scar from where a rocket beast had cut into it with her fists (Marza Volchitsa ). "but i get it."

she'd gone to king with the same request. granted, hers had more...nuance to it, but the fact remains the same. 

"i'm still learning hand-to-hand myself, to be honest with you, but i can teach you strategy. i know a thing or two about fighting angry men." she tosses the bow aside. "you wanna start with the shield? use it and make sure i can't land a hit on you."

francie myrtle

☉

freya only has eyes for her one and only, so whatever puppy-dog eyes francie is giving her go completely over her head. guess they're both thick. instead, her gaze flits over francie's stance, drinking in the way she moves her weight around. where she keeps her center of balance. 

she moves like a boxer. 

when she braces herself and asks her question, freya only smiles and starts swinging. she's lithe, but she's by no means weak. her sparring sessions have gifted her tight, compact muscles that ripple now as she moves, lashing out with calculated blow after blow to francie's midsection, sides, throat - anything to make her move that shield around. 

she does not relent, not as sweat beads on her forehead and as her arms ache and her knuckles complain when they meet the gilded shield. 

francie myrtle

☉

they go toe to toe, dancing back and forth as fist glances off of shield. the only sounds are their footwork, freya's grunts, and francie's occasional exclamations. quickly, her muscles begin to burn. sweat beads. her silver tresses slip from careful braids and a flush of heat rises to her cheeks. 

still, she parries what blows come her way and she throws every bit of herself into the fight. she runs through KING WAYLAND's training exercises, keeps herself small, her form tight. that's her biggest problem. she overreaches. she gets greedy. 

and through their slogging, her discipline starts to waver. she goes for a jab, knowing full well there's a slim chance of hitting. and she doesn't. instead, francie seizes an opportunity. 

the shield clips her hard on the jaw and she staggers back, holding up a hand to stop their fight. 

she gasps, breathing hard, and smiles. "not bad, francie. so do you box?"

francie myrtle

☉

"i've endured worse," she says with a wave of her hand. far, far worse. still, she flexes her jaw a little bit and rubs the sore spot with her thumb. it's fine though. she'll just make KING WAYLAND kiss it better later. 

"you're selling yourself short." she finally drops her hand and then bends over to pick up the shield from the ground. it's scuffed a bit - satisfied, she realizes some of the marks are from her own hits. she holds it out to francie with a smile. 

"i'm honestly not sure if i could teach you anything you don't already know, except to be more confident in your own abilities." she glances away, lips pursed. her brows furrow in contemplation, and then she sighs and lets it go. "if you go into a battle thinking you're less than you are, you've already lost. trust me on that."

francie myrtle

☉