Oliver would have been lying if he said the offer for sparring lessons with Helen Dawlish hadn't interested him the first time she'd offered, though pride and confidence in his abilities stopped any attempt to reach out. What did he need some person to train him when he had access to a team of professionals? Though, their most recently conversation via the journaling network worked it's way into his brain and wouldn't stop rattling around until he made the appointment. Normally, an assistant of Puddlemere would have taken on the task, but a small voice in the back of Oliver's mind wasn't so sure his trainers would appreciate any potential undoing of their work.
The bells above the door jingled merrily, matching his 'hello'. Shedding off the warm, woolen grey coat, Oliver magicked the outerwear to a hook and beamed. "Good to see you, hen." He stripped another layer - a sweater - off without hesitation to reveal a black T-shirt underneath. Next came the pants; one couldn't properly spar in denim. Now clad in the familiar cool, yet tight, work out clothing, Oliver nodded at her suggestion. "Mm yeah, always good to do that. Full body stretch? Anything you recommend?"