The sunlight shining in from the room window would rouse Zinnia from her slumber as was normally the case given that her bedroom faced eastwards. Today was the fortnightly tutoring day, so Zinnia promptly hopped out of bed to see what Teach had in store for her, even if she knew deep down it was going to be yet another disappointment. But now she had L'atio, at least. Childishly hoping that perhaps an inanimate book could somehow make things better for her by demonstrating how horrible Teach was at teaching. L'atio silently scoffed at the child's silly thoughts, though he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. If this 'Teach' of hers were truly as ineffectual as she made it out to be, that would make her that much more malleable to his desires.

"Ah, good morning Zinnia." Teach sounded unusually perky today. This never meant well for her. L'atio felt his host visibly tensing up. Interesting.
"I've enlisted a special tutor for today's lesson. You'll be learning unarmed self-defence from them today. They'll be at the usual empty lot." Teach continued, before getting up from his seat and heading out the entrance. "I've some requests to fulfill so I won't be around. Have fun!"

"Teach! Wait!" Zinnia tried to chase after him, but he was swiftly out the door before she was even halfway there. 

Unarmed self-defence lessons? Really? I thought you're supposed to train me to be a mage! You see, L'atio? This is how he treats me on tutoring day!

Calm down now, child. Take a deep breath. In truth, L'atio could see the merits in learning unarmed self-defence. After all- A flash of anger would inadvertently spill out of his being and be felt by Zinnia.
L'atio? Is something wrong? That anger was new to Zinnia. Raw, burning rage, seething and scorching, threatening to boil and sear everything it touched.

Apologies. I just remembered something... deeply unpleasant. I would say you ought to go for the lessons, child.

Not you too, L'atio! I thought you were my friend! Zinnia pouted angrily.
I am your friend! How about this, child? You go for the lesson and I teach you more magic on another occasion when Teach is away.
Mmm... Zinnia did not find that prospect tempting enough to risk exerting her non-existent muscles.
And I will give you an embarrassing story of mine as to exactly why I want you to take those lessons. How about that? L'atio didn't want to talk about himself, really, but he really wanted her to go. Self-defence reflexes would make for a much more useful host.
Ooh story! That's a promise, L'atio! A smile formed on Zinnia's face as she made her way to the dining table for breakfast, and soon she would be leaving towards the empty lot set for general use.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Let's get down to business
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere
Post Requirements: 5 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: Charon has experienced a wide array of conflict and difficulty over the last three years, with worldwide crisis popping up every few months. The need for strong, brave heroes has rapidly been increasing and the Crown is starting to feel the strain, as military groups are being stretched thin. Capable heroes, adventurers and guild members are being asked to help train a newer generation to help combat the problems that plague the nation. Help by teaching another, be it how to use a weapon and fight, how to cast powerful spells, or how to quietly navigate a dangerous area. Maybe you yourself are the one getting trained, hoping to step up and help defend Charon! No matter the skill set, it will only benefit the land to have more able bodied heroes!

    Far away from the previous patch of society, Baird and Mors thanked Ziev that a job opened up far away from immeasurable horrors or terrible creatures. Blithe's focus remained as a bottomless pit of resolve, still remaining wary of what may lurk despite the innocuous place they found themselves in. Though none of the trio may rest at this 'easy job'. Supporting the youth and building a future of capable protectors was no place for a deadbeat mentor.

    Warm-up, keep a light mood, and be a good model to work off of. Form, energy, fundamentals. Maybe the multitude of scars would be too scary? Would the kid think they are cool? Just being such a bizarre creature incited extreme reactions of all kinds. The children of the Marsh seemed very different than the kids elsewhere, so Baird just didn't know what to expect. The teacher did leave an ominous note about this student, but surely they were just being hyperbolic! 

    Indeed it felt that way when they eventually arrived. It was just a little girl, clinging to a large tome (schoolbook maybe?). Incredible things can come from small beginnings, however. Baird kept his mind open, Mors immediately began to daydream, and Blithe acknowledged the girl before going back to scanning the bushes for movement- Wait, no; Blithe turns back again towards the girl. There was nothing else but her and the book. He was sure of something else there, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Must be the hypervigilance getting to him.

    Baird gave a deep bow before standing tall, looking in the girl's eyes with a showy smile of determination. He called out, "Well, well! You must be the illustrious Zinnia! My name is Baird Sickleclaw, this is Mors and the skittish fella is Blithe. How are ya feelin'? We are probably gonna be working up a sweat, so I cooked up some snacks in case we get hungry from showing the bags who the bosses are around here!"

L'atio and Zinnia both displayed exasperation at... whatever the heck they were looking at. He felt fortunate that he would not actually have to put up with this twisted abomination's training, while she was visibly aghast at Teach's idea of an appropriate tutor. She was certain Baird... And Mors... And Blithe? could turn her into a bloody pulp in an instant if they wanted to. The child was sorely tempted to just pretend she didn't hear anything and run at this point. Not like Teach ever got angry enough for her to care that much anyway.

Sensing the child's wavering resolve, L'atio would start his story.
My family had many traditions when it came to skills, and one of those traditions was a monthly spar with other members of the family as well as with experts of their trade. Do you know what the greatest weakness of a mage is, child?
Um, no? Mages can do anything if they put their mind to it! Why would they have weaknesses? Zinnia, ever the sweet summer child clinging to non-existent idols, answered as much.
If mages can do anything though, why is it that the world is not run by mages and mages alone? The child's foolishness was a boon to him, certainly.
Uhhh... Zinnia had no idea, and her expressions had been shifting continuously throughout the internal dialogue.
There exist people who can take their ability away, even if momentarily. When that happens, a mage is only as useful as their physical body's capabilities. Even if not, child, there are ways to just stop the mage from getting their spells out long enough to matter.
Ugh. I get it. I need to learn how to punch if I wanna be a kick-ass mage. Zinnia visibly sighed and walked up to Baird.
"Yeah, that's me. Hi." Zinnia had no idea how to properly greet her tutor in the slightest. L'atio would be clutching his head in response to the child's ineptitude if he still had one to speak of.

    Hm. Well, Baird couldn't say he was surprised. The shifting expression on her face assured him that, of course, his unsightly appearance strikes again. The few words and unimpressed body language might as well have been Sarne's holy blades for how deep they cut. However, he was ready for this!

    "I sense little enthusiasm. Tell ya what, if you try your best today, you get one free use of Scary-Friend! Just give me a time, place, and description and I will deliver a message that you aren't to be messed with."

    A privilege many of Baird's peers back in the village loved to make use of when they were kids. Baird grew up big and fast, so he quickly became the one to even out the odds between the bullies and the runts. Zinnia just might be willful enough that such squabbles aren't much of her concern, but every kid has someone they don't like. A little spook-prank was a cheap service in exchange for a chance to pass on some meaningful knowledge.

    Mors built on the offer, "You can ride on our shoulders too, if you want. These wings aren't just for show, y'know!"

    With their offer, they also extended an arm towards a table nearby. Adorned from edge to edge were little bites of many varieties. Cookies and cakes that may not look expertly made, they certainly smelled like fresh delights. Great practice for a less-practiced skill. Various cubed meats and cheeses for energy, alongside veggies with creamy sauces as well. This spread of all the food one could muster would've taken up more than the pay for this job, hadn't Baird bargained his talents and cooked all of this himself. Truly the hybrid wanted to sweeten the deal to the best of his ability. Though he leaves out the part where he was going to keep the left-overs for a different function later.

The hamlet Zinnia called home was largely bereft of children, as the place would really be better described as a loose gathering of housing structures whose inhabitants have just enough of a sense of community to call itself a village. With that in mind, the Scary-Friend bribe did not appeal much to her, nor did it hold any power over L'atio since he literally couldn't talk to the porcine abomination even if he wanted to.

Mors' offer was marginally more appealing, but the idea of riding on a monster did not appeal to the girl. Zinnia wanted to be a kick-ass mage, not some weirdo carried around by a boar-vulture-eel hybrid. Her face remained unimpressed, and the only reason her face hadn't contorted worse was the effects of a reflextive fear of the unknown.

Confections and culinary delights, on the other hand, spoke to the child like presenting an exquisite banquet to an impoverished peasant who never knew even the littlest of luxuries. Zinnia would immediately run towards the table, giddy and excited and unthinking, about to dine in on the cookies before a stern echo resounded in her mind.

Control yourself, child! Have you no courtesy? L'atio's words held a tinge of undulating insanity, so much so that the girl felt a sense of indescribable wrongness and found herself frozen in place. He hadn't considered this possible application of the unrelenting voices, though borrowing them would beset him with far worse cacophonies than whatever he could direct at her.

Training comes first, child. Indulging in food before exercise will only serve to cause you future agony. L'atio remained calm even as the hypocritical haunts of etiquette bombarded his mindscape with their impossibly specific orders. It was nothing new, after all, and he had already spent what felt like eternity with this madness.

Okay... The girl did not know or understand why, but she instinctively felt she had to listen as she reluctantly moved away from the table and faced Baird once more.

    Fists raised in celebration, "Yosh! We're just looking to ensure you know how to keep a problem off ya if it gets too close. Nothing all that difficult, promise." Mors nodded and fluttered their wings as emphasis. Blithe simply glowered at the defenselessness this space has against attack.

    The lumbering beastman sauntered over to what looked like a scarecrow, all dressed up and posed like a bandit ready to get up to nefarious deeds. A mannequin with straw stuffing. With a hand pointed to each location as they are listed, Mors would offer insight, "Among the face are the eyes, nose, and ears. Down from there is the throat. Next is the small space where the shoulder socket connects to the chest. The pits beneath the arm, the fingers, and the solar plexus just beneath the sternum. The groin (naturally), the inner thigh, behind the knees, and finally the ankles and toes."

    "These are all the most common vulnerable locations to strike on a normal humanoid body. From gnomes to elves to orcs to even this strange guy talking to you. If you really have been taught how to use combat magic, you likely already know to hit these spots. Let me tell you, though, that a fist can exploit these particular weaknesses to equal effect as a fireball on a snowman." 

    Baird then chimes in to make the first request, "First step, just come on over and give this guy a solid wallop. Show us what ya got!"

The girl had no idea what the solar plexus or the sternum was supposed to be, though she couldn't help but giggle when Mors mentioned the groin. Children. Aside from that, though, L'atio did not have much complaint on the lesson thus far, even if he was incapable of eking out even a word of appreciation for all the effort that went into the setup. The isolation from his peers due to his difficult personality and the perception of praise as a political maneuver that was more likely to harm him than not all but ensured he never saw any situation fit to utter those formalities, ever.

Zinnia would show little appreciation as well, though in her case it was a mix of ignorance (even though she ought to know better when Teach does less than the bare minimum for his 'lessons'), the gnawing desire to be anywhere but here, and quite simply her inability to appreciate anything that wasn't flashy and awesome befitting an ordinary child of her age. She would walk up to the scarecrow, try to pose heroically like the protagonists in her favourite comic books, take a few steps back and-
"Zinnia Punch!" Call out her attack as she drove her fist forward while charging, only to trip as a result of bad footing and hit empty air.

    Baird waited patiently for Zinnia to get into position, lifting an arm preemptively to block Mors' sight once she reached the dummy. "Hey, what the-?" Baird kept his eyes forward and a welcoming expression.

    <"Zinnia Punch!"> A predictable outcome. Mors thankfully missed it, so the only response was Baird's nodding and a stiff lip. She was a little girl who wanted to be a wizard, so this was about what he expected in terms of skill; but the theatrics forced a tightness in his belly to which squeals threatened to escape. He took a deep breath.

    "That's normal, don't you worry. You'll see that learning a spell and learning a strike can be veeery similar!" Baird noted matter-of-factly. He then walked over to a barrel nearby and pulled out from it a hefty bag with a chain. He hung the bag onto a stand near the middle of the lot. Once it was affixed, he turned to Zinnia and did a classic impression of a typical teacher, "The next step is to observe. Look at my footing, bend the knees, level the shoulders. Notice how I drive my rear hoof into the grounds as I flex. It is the fist that needs to be propelled, it is the body that is the propulsion, and it is the ground that I must brace against to do so." 

    After the small lecture, Baird claps his hands and gets into a stance in front of the bag. "That's the boring stuff out of the way, but do keep it in mind as I demonstrate!" Couched shoulders and statuesque stillness for a few moments. A leaf flutters like an injured moth through the wind. It crossed between the boar and his target at just the poetic instant. A fist launched like a cannonball forward with a heavy rush of air.

[Bam]

    The bag was burst from the back. Sand shot a dozen feet away and splashed onto the floor with a satisfying shush. The leaf stuck to the front of the bag that was now spilling a pile onto the ground.

    "Ah, heh! Maybe a bit much, but makes sense, right?" Baird sheepishly ran a hand over his fur crest. Mors' contrasted this with a look of revelry at the clean strike, glad to finally have a bit of flare to his day.

The girl tasted dirt in her mouth as she fell to the ground face-first after her failed punch sent her careening downwards from the momentum. Gods, did she feel embarrassed and lame right now with her cheeks flushing red from the epic fail she'd just committed. She sorely desired to just sink into the ground and never be seen again, but alas, the ground was both firm and frankly uncomfortable to lie on with the grainy surfaces and the stored heat seeping into her feeble body, so she would have little choice but to lift herself up and get on with the rest of the programme. It did, thankfully, mean she missed Baird attempting to stifle his laughter.

Zinnia was very much unconvinced that learning a spell was remotely close to learning how to punch, but the treats on the table were still too appealing for her to turn her head away and so she soldiered on, paying attention to Baird's stance and moves. L'atio did much the same, even if he only had vein-throbbing memories when it came to muscular ilk. He was consistently the scrawniest among his many siblings, enough that even his little sisters used to beat him when it came to physical endeavours.

Then, as part of the mannequin burst out, the girl could not help but jump at the loudness of the impact generated by her one-day teacher. It was genuinely the loudest punch she had ever heard in her admittedly short life, and she began trembling once more from the instinctive fear of this display being repeated on her - what should be an unwarranted paranoiac thought seemed just so right to the meek child.

Child. L'atio started, unsure if the following words would be the best choice to assuage the young soul, but they had to be said, if only for his own long-term benefit. You will never be like those characters you idolize so if you cannot conquer this fear. Was that not your dream? To be a... He grumbled internally before continuing. The difference between vocabulary in different generations had him wanting to gag at the very thought of even enunciating the following. 'Kick-ass mage?'

B-but... She stood frozen, unable to look away from the carnage Baird had wrought upon the mannequin and juxtaposing herself over it.
Powerful mages are bound to have powerful enemies. Did you think it was all going to be sunshine and roses, that the world would simply bend to your will? Even the comics you read have the heroes losing, fairly or unfairly, before coming back stronger. He had little enjoyment for the wish-fulfilling aspects of those childish stories, but it was what the girl liked and so he had to suffer through the saccharine cliches too.
Okay... Unable to find the words needed to dispel L'atio's entirely rational assessments, and not liking the undressing of weakness that was happening to her. Zinnia would walk over and attempt to pose herself correctly, but it seemed her coordination was failing her, not helped by the creeping unease dancing just beyond the peripheries of her understanding.

    This girl got lost in her own head a lot. Quiet, didn't let others know what she was thinking or feeling. Yet it was very clear to see the traumatized fear towards the beastman, and it sent Baird through his own pitfall. His brow lowered like a shield to protect his mind. Many children were afraid of him, so many that it stung more the realization that he didn't feel much of anything at the sight of one more. He just wished there was some way he could be something else so they would look at him with something other than disinterest or terror. A selfish perspective, the boar would get a grip in spite of it. A little girl needed help and he wasn't doing a good job of caring for her.

    He knelt down as low as he could, just as he'd do talking to others. "Hold on, take a second. Everything is alright. I'm your guardian and I'll make sure you leave this lot the same as you were when you arrived, only more capable and with a full belly." 

    Mors was not one to be concerned with the wellbeing of kids. Who knows where this one will be in the coming years. It seemed irrelevant to the warrior-terror. Blithe would beat himself up at not lifting the child from her fall. She was an under Baird's wing, so under the eel's protection. The empathy of the duty-bound.

    Baird continued the lesson in his former lighthearted tone, "Here. Feet at shoulder width and dukes up. You've got this!" If Zinnia takes to the attempt, Baird would guide her stance and prepare her next strike with all his knowledge.

The beastman's words would do little to console the girl or draw her out of her fear-filled reverie, even as he promised guardianship and satiety. Her addled mind wheeled to the times she had already been betrayed by adults - first by her parents who abandoned her, then by her uncle who died on her, and Teach who saw fit to foist this abomination upon her rather than actually take responsibility for her growth. L'atio would feel just the slightest pang of sympathy for the precocious child. Betrayal was a horrible blade, its edges serrated to the brim for maximum agony, causing scars he knew deeply enough that he much preferred to preemptively burn bridges and even lives rather than let it happen. All that while he himself intended to betray the child in the future for his goals.

No, Zinnia couldn't trust anyone, not even the spirit who claims he only wants to help the child. It was at that moment that L'atio finally realised his misstep. A mockery, or perhaps an unfortunately accurate image of himself faded in and out in their shared mindscape, alternating between screams, civility, and burning disdain for everything in the world as it taunted his splitting image. L'atio grabbed his lookalike by the collar and glared into the latter's fractal eyes.
"Leave her alone." The man commanded.
"Even though you intend on subjecting her to the very same in the future yourself?" The illusion grinned widely, forming an arc far beyond what the man's face could have stretched in the flesh.
"Leave. Her. Alone." The man repeated, punctuating for emphasis.
"How quaint. You would pretend you even care about her when you only care about yourself." The illusion simply laughed at the man's attempts to regain control.
"She is not yours." The man replied.
"She is not yours either." The illusion retorted.

"Leave Zinnia be. You are mine, and mine alone." The man's voice was trembling, yet resolute as an unexpected tear left his eye.

"Indeed. I am yours. Do not forget that again." The illusion faded away and the man stood alone, wearing a look of absolute exhaustion that none had ever lived to see.

Back in reality, Zinnia's mind felt lighter, and luckily for the disembodied spirit, she hadn't the understanding or self-awareness to process her fluctuating emotions or even think something was horribly wrong just now. Instead, the thought of devouring rare confections flooded her brain once again and she perked up, listening to Baird's instructions with renewed enthusiasm.

    Baird and Mors watched Zinnia with concern. She was getting lost in her head again, but this time seemed pretty hardcore. Is this poor girl disturbed in some way? Clearly something wasn't quite right. Baird's curiosity at how they take care of her here was starting to grow. Do they help her through these or make it worse? His little brush in with the teacher when going over the lesson didn't leave the finest impression, if he remembers right.

    Yet just as Mors opened his beak to try and call her out of the conniption, she returned to a normal-ish little girl like a flash. Getting back into fighting pose, her eyes wandering to the table of treats. Baird felt it best to take things one step at a time, so best do as promised and get her punching like a champ. Once this was over, though, he'd keep in mind to check up on this institution. Hopefully he was just imagining things.

    The proceeding exercise easily reminded Baird of his lessons under his mother. She had a remarkable talent for loving him so much as her son and simultaneously teaching him with the toughest love that a grem can offer. Mama didn't raise a boy who'll get himself beat or killed, though she had her mind on the swamp puppies, bogaboos, avianbears, and the rough-and-tumble folk from Lilicors. Throughout the lesson, Baird would feel somewhat compelled to explain how he learned so much. Nothing like anecdotal evidence to prove a strong body is useful to the small, swift, or brilliant.

    "I was taught to fight when I was a bit younger than you. It may be hard to believe, but I was far more clumsy when I was little!"
    
    "Magic is incredible in many ways, but a healthy body is still the best foundation of a longer, happier life."

    "You come across a sucker rockin' some amulet or anti-magic armor, a hit right here will knock them on their butt!"

    "Hit my palm with all ya got! I promise ya, next time you see me I'll have a whole sheet of cupcakes if you make me wince!" To which Baird would naturally ham up a 'broken wrist' if she applies herself. Though if Zinnia felt disheartened to try, he'd instead include, "Ah, alright. Tell me a true story of you being kind next time we meet and I'll make you anything you want (within reason)."

The girl was obviously unconvinced that her one-day teacher could have actually been clumsier than herself, but Zinnia had no way of proving that, and L'atio certainly was not about to teach her that one spell she could use to actually determine that any time soon. That was a shortcut to eternal damnation on its own. She was also internally groaning at the very idea of physical training for a healthy body - just the thought of it sent images of her sweating profusely, muscles awash in agony into her mind and she wanted no part in that. Whatever motivation that renewed her enthusiasm was waning. Fast.

At Baird bringing up the talk about 'some amulet or anti-magic armor', L'atio figured it was as good a time as any to bring up the continuation of his anecdote.
Be grateful, child, that I am willing to share one of my most humiliating defeats ever back in my day. His inner voice was steeped in crackling dread as he recalled one of his worst duels of all time.
I went through the trouble of weaving an armour of magic all over myself, and then I was summarily knocked out by a singular punch from a gauntlet with anti-magic properties. Do not be like me, Zinnia. That last sentence was spoken with a soulful genuineness not found in his other words.

Urghhhhhh. The child was just outright annoyed at this point, though the image of being knocked out with a punch sparked a palpable fear - that of crippling weakness - in the child, enough that she would actually attempt to punch Baird's palm proper this time, careful to pay attention to her stance this time as she launched her fist forward.
"Zinnia Punch! Take Two!" Another go, and this time she would actually not trip and land a pitifully weak hit. Hurray for progress!

    Progress was all the boar sought. Today was meant to only be a step along the unending path of grit and might. A foot through the door was all Baird could offer. He could lead this pony to water, but it was up to her to drink.

    Baird figured Zinnia wouldn't care for his theatrics at this point, but it'd take a lot more than a bit of bratty attitude to stop him from encouraging her with all his energy. He pulled his hand like a cannon shot it, rumbled a noise like he was stifling a yelp, turned like he needed to check for bleeding. Mors simply closed his eyes as if ready to facepalm. Blithe coiled like he had no clue what was happening and checked Baird's hand for a wound. Baird looked back at Zinnia and remarked, "Oof, kid, you trying to break my wrist? Alright, alright, you win! Cupcakes are yours when I see ya next." 
    
    The lesson was coming to a close, so it had become time to accept what was earned. Baird circled around the edge of the table of food stuffs. Setting a seat in front of an empty plate, he'd wave over the little one. "For today, however, we got a full spread ready! Cheese and crackers, some herbs-and-spiced turkey, pepper mash, steamed greens, bean sprouts, potatoes, fresh fish fillet, sticky and fluffy rice, crusts with onion dip- -ah, and can't forget vanilla shortbread, custard, and strawberry bundt cake!" This was most definitely not theatrics. Baird's excitement to cook and feed others rivaled his love of strength. It isn't often he is handed a fanciful sum to get quality and quantity ingredients, but he couldn't help but splurge when he heard it was for a tutoring position. Whatever is left from here would have to last a little while. Who knows when he would have an opportunity like this again? Not the chimera, with how much they must remain on the move.

    Once Zinnia was situated, he'd set up the plate with whatever she wanted (with mild pressure to get her nutrients and not to just fill up on sugar) before digging in himself, along with Mors and Blithe picking at a few things.

"Cupcakes!" Boy, oh boy, was the girl glad to finally land a punch and call the training over. Then, as she listened to the descriptions Baird gave about the full spread he had prepared for the girl, saliva began to drool from her mouth and her hands were clasped together, staring eagerly at the food and wanting to just jump right in without regard for courtesy. L'atio was rather tempted to bid the child restrain herself once more, but the words would not leave his personal mindscape one way or another.

It seemed that would be not necessary, however, as Zinnia carried herself to the table and waited to be served, pointing at basically everything to try when prompted by Baird about what she wanted. Teach was by no means a good cook; his meals provided enough nutrition to not starve, certainly, and enough to fill the child's stomach on the regular, but by gods were they horribly bland, as though made by a person who found no joy in setting food on the table, consuming merely for the sake of survival. Anyhow, the girl would attempt to start with dessert like the gluttonous child that she was before the spirit chimed in.
Eat dessert first and you will not have room for everything else. L'atio started.
But I wanna have dessert first! Zinnia imagined herself flailing her arms internally.
Ah, but saving it for last would make it better, would it not? Besides, people are known to have second stomachs for dessert. He did his best to avoid bringing up the lectures his personal chef used to growl at his ear.
Hmph... I'll trust you just this once. The girl moved her utensils away from the strawberry bundt cake and instead started with the herbs-and-spiced turkey. She was not quite sure why in her mind, while the spirit surmised that some lingering insanity may have left its mark after all. A curious development, certainly, but far too early for him to draw up any theories regarding the phenomenon.

So it was that Zinnia dined, and dined, and dined. She would be stuffed for a long, long while. Until the child's hunger set in once more in about a day, anyway.
"Thanks Baird, Mors and Blithe! That was the best meal I've ever had!" Zinnia was now genuinely impressed by the delectable delights, more so than the chimera's teaching skills, in fact. The girl had all but forgotten about the whole punching lesson at this point, such was the short attention span the child possessed.