{OOC: Let's just presume a time-skip here, and thus assume that all needed medical work has been attended to, for the sake of moving on with the training}
[video=youtube;mqFHHWVH53g]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqFHHWVH53g[/video]
*A gently wind flew past Agnes, some sand dancing with no particular care around her as it travels past her, the sunlight beaming harshly upon her hair, sweat dripping periodically from the sand covered brown hair that has been said to flow like the wind. Anchiem was bustling with life on this particular day, crowds flowing freely from stand to stand, purchasing water, fruits, carpets, meat, fish, vegetables, and countless trinkets, much of it sold by mountebanks, selling dreams and false hopes. In other words, it was a charlatans paradise, not particularly friendly to frail, naive girls walking alone after being the only survivor of a massacre of her people. No, definitely not. This left her in a much shyer state than her already shy normal disposition, her shoulders broadly up, hedging her neck and face against any unwanted intrusions, for example, all of them. She squirms through the crowds as she hastily walks past them, her body swerving past countless other people. Some mumble complaints whenever she accidentally glazed them, but most merely continued their vivid conversations, arms raising up as their tones animated their discussions about how much a rip-off the newest swords was, or thrashed wildly against the mountebanks and charlatans that thrived in this merchant town. Funnily enough, she was the only one who noticed the wind... the town paid no heed to the one being that truly gave them comfort in the oppressive heat, besides the water of the nearby oasis.*
*She walks more hastily, until she bumps into a taller man. He turns around swiftly, almost going with the motion of the wind, and merely gives a casual look downwards. He has a gruff face, partially shaven, but otherwise having the appearance of having lived with pain for quite sometime, yet, there was an air of comfortability with him, one which confused the poor girl. He also has a mouse... wait, this isn't right...*
*Agnes wakes up, a light sunlight gleaming through a mostly shaded window. She looks across the room, apparently she has been resting for the last several hours, as indicated by a clock located directly across form her location, but otherwise little could be indicative of where this could be beyond a hospital bed. A light blush begins to cover her face, she has once again over-done it.*
[video=youtube;mqFHHWVH53g]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqFHHWVH53g[/video]
*A gently wind flew past Agnes, some sand dancing with no particular care around her as it travels past her, the sunlight beaming harshly upon her hair, sweat dripping periodically from the sand covered brown hair that has been said to flow like the wind. Anchiem was bustling with life on this particular day, crowds flowing freely from stand to stand, purchasing water, fruits, carpets, meat, fish, vegetables, and countless trinkets, much of it sold by mountebanks, selling dreams and false hopes. In other words, it was a charlatans paradise, not particularly friendly to frail, naive girls walking alone after being the only survivor of a massacre of her people. No, definitely not. This left her in a much shyer state than her already shy normal disposition, her shoulders broadly up, hedging her neck and face against any unwanted intrusions, for example, all of them. She squirms through the crowds as she hastily walks past them, her body swerving past countless other people. Some mumble complaints whenever she accidentally glazed them, but most merely continued their vivid conversations, arms raising up as their tones animated their discussions about how much a rip-off the newest swords was, or thrashed wildly against the mountebanks and charlatans that thrived in this merchant town. Funnily enough, she was the only one who noticed the wind... the town paid no heed to the one being that truly gave them comfort in the oppressive heat, besides the water of the nearby oasis.*
*She walks more hastily, until she bumps into a taller man. He turns around swiftly, almost going with the motion of the wind, and merely gives a casual look downwards. He has a gruff face, partially shaven, but otherwise having the appearance of having lived with pain for quite sometime, yet, there was an air of comfortability with him, one which confused the poor girl. He also has a mouse... wait, this isn't right...*
*Agnes wakes up, a light sunlight gleaming through a mostly shaded window. She looks across the room, apparently she has been resting for the last several hours, as indicated by a clock located directly across form her location, but otherwise little could be indicative of where this could be beyond a hospital bed. A light blush begins to cover her face, she has once again over-done it.*