Morgana watched him stand without a word.
Her expression hadn't changed, but there was something in her eyes.
A faint, attentive quality, like she was measuring something she hadn't expected to need to measure.
They went again.
And then again.
Students gaze at them but didn't comment. Bit they were surprised to see Noah getting trainer by instructor Morgana.
She struck him cleanly on the shoulder.
"Arghh!"
He went down. He got up.
'Not yet!'
She swept his legs out from under him in the middle of a swing. He hit the floor. He got up.
She caught his wrist mid-attack, redirected his momentum against himself, and sent him stumbling into few steps.
He steadied himself. He came back.
Each time he rose, something small had shifted.
His stance was slightly lower. His transitions between strikes were slightly tighter.
The tells in his footwork were becoming less obvious. The grip stayed firm through the follow-through.
