Klaire held open her book in the warlock’s direction, pointing to a line on the page. “My Latin is still quite rusty and I don’t quite understand this. I was hoping you could help?”
“Well maybe I can try and show you a trick or two I know, as a little payment for you offering to help me out.” He replied with a smile of his own as he took in what she had to say. “I appreciate the reminder, that the training room is always open, but I’m still more the type that needs to learn from someone you know? I’d hate to try and just train by myself and only wind up perfecting not doing it right you know?” Ash mumbled before moving to walk beside her, “Apparently the more coffee you drink the less of a headache you get– and now that I say that outloud it almost sounds lie I have a problem,” he added with a soft laugh as they moved through the corridor.
“That would be really cool, though I have to warn you I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.” Klaire admitted “Fair enough, I can understand that. So what’s your weapon of choice?” She asked before pulling the kitchen door open and holding it for the mundane before walking over to the kettle and pushing down the lever watching it turn bright orange. “Really? I never knew that it, that’s definitely good to know. Anything you’d like in particular? There’s quite a bit of variety in the kitchen.”
“Why, that was just an accurate deduction. Judging from the frown on your face and the fact that people like you constantly need the presence of people like me, I formed what one could call, “an educated guess.’”
“I don’t know… home is supposed to be a comfortable place with people that care about you. I know we’re at war and all, but– well, never mind. You live here for longer that I do. You must know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind honestly, we all have different opinions but you never know it might change over time.”
Ravens and Writing Desks 