Who: Tymor, OPEN When: Day 68, late afternoon Where: Hallways of the Red Keep Rating: PG, maybe? PG-13 for curses relating to foolhardy Sands, perhaps. ^_~ Status: OPEN
A little fighting was good to get the blood moving, and remind oneself of being alive, rather than merely existing. It was also good for aches, pains, and bruises of assorted colors. In the end, Tymor's left eye was bruised, swollen, and a lovely blend of black, purple and blue. His right hand was swollen and bruised all over the knuckles and regrettably difficult to move around. As a swordsman, he'd trained himself to be ambidextrous. As a scholar, he was right handed.
Well, his father would be glad to see him spending less time with his books over the next few days until his hand stopped aching.
Passing his reflection, he mused that it was quite obvious that he'd been in a brawl recently. If he'd been a vainer man, he might have helped himself to some of Toria's face powder to cover up the bruising. As it was, he strolled down the halls, confident and calm, ignoring any stares that fell on his swollen eye.