In times of relative peace like this Sarge often finds himself craving something unpeaceful to take his mind off things. Especially when all the drinking won't seem to drown the memories invading his consciousness. All the other, admittedly limited, pastimes won't do. There is no way he can concentrate on carving, or rather stand the rather mindless task that keeps his hands busy but not his mind. Reading has become a chore since he has read all fifteen books currently in his possession three times, and unlike most of his brothers he stays away from the bitches as much as he can. Because he can't remember their faces too well and doesn't want to pick the same one twice by accident.
So he comes here, to punch and kick at a bag he hauled across Austin because he knew, deep down inside, that this would be necessary at some point. Even though he can still hear Bob's voice in his ear, the old man just as quiet and stoic, grumbling out advice while training him. "Not bad. For a toddler." "How 'bout tryin' for real next time." "You're too slow. Big fella like you will be taken out by a smaller guy when he's faster." And if he is honest, sometimes he misses it so much it makes him double his efforts, suddenly having even more to work off than before.
But not today. Somebody else is there, but it's somebody he doesn't feel inclined to drag away by the hair. Not just because of her position, but because he sees something in her while he watches her that reminds him of someone he knows very well. Unfortunately. He'd rather not know himself. Sometimes.
He tosses away the rest of his cigarette when she speaks up and steps closer, casually glancing at her busted knuckles. Yep, definitely familiar. "Boring, ain't it. Fuckin' bag never even movin' outta the way." There could be a certain sense of awkwardness creeping over him, because this goes against many things he is certain he stands for, or would like to stand for, but technically sparring isn't serious. At least not in that way. "You wanna try 'n throw some punches at a human after tapin' those hands up."
Not really a question, more a statement that suggests that reality could go both ways from here on out but is preferred to head towards punching. Sarge doesn't quit look at her while he says it, but zeros in somewhere on her forehead, which is not bad for him at all.