Eithne wanted a great many things, but none of them were anything like what he asked. Not anymore. She didn't have a home to return to. Whatever emotion was left for Oisea, besides the fierce want to protect it from burning down like Hathrida had, was with him. For Simanel, though not her birthplace but where she began as a rider, there was much of the same but it was for Agrippa to decide if she could continue or not. Eithne didn't know much about sword, and challenging him to a fight with one was not something she would have done a day ago. It was stupid, but she needed to learn and if the only way of learning was to make Eragos think he'd made her mad and caused her to want to fight him then so be it. She knew he was baiting her as if nothing had happened between them ever, as if this was another game to win.
Just once more.
The thought that this probably was the last time, or at least the last time where it'd mean he same thing caused her face to change briefly, somewhere between a smile and a sudden pain, before she lifted her head to face him. Eithne let him win this round and she curled her mouth into a sneer. The angry look he'd seen a million times before. "No, actually, I kind of want to beat you with the broadside of my new sword." Eithne pulled the falchion from it's scabbard and brandished it in his direction, but not with the same polish that someone who knew how to work a blade like this would have or with the same anger she might have had it been back before Oisea. Back before Hathrida. She was different, even without really beginning on the path she'd chosen to ride now.
But he didn't have to know that.
Did he expect her to attack first? He'd need to egg her on a little more if he wanted that. Or maybe she should egg him on and cause him to attack. Maybe then he'd believe she wasn't just playing along to get the lesson. She'd push him too far because there were so many wonderfully hurtful words she could have said to him. She could have asked if he saw his brother, or if that was the reason his uniform was a ruin of it's former self. She wanted to know, secretly, if he had and if that was the reason for the wounds that were now angry lines of fresh skin. But in the same moment she didn't want to see any pain in those eyes. Because if she did she might just drop the sword and embrace him and then she really would ruin him in the way Vargis warned her.