Wheeling Gull Isle parted seas

"do you ever spar, bartholomew?"

his chest heaved as he attempted to catch air and his gaze followed her own, out to the ocean.

it was a near barbaric question to the holy man, but for the first time in his life he considered it. spar. refining his flesh as he did his soul.

should i learn, heda? he asked her in a near mumble. tired for the moment, but soon he would find himself with energy once more. there was still much he had to show her after all.