Ordhan arrived at the training grounds later than was his custom. The day was still just beginning, the night's chill still damp in the stone walls and the dew fresh on the grass. The night had been long and restless. Half was spent at the guard house with an equally sleepless dwarf, with an hour or two of sleep earned before the dawn; Ordhan was tired, but not nearly tired enough to skip his routine visit to the training grounds. It was a deeply-ingrained habit. He always felt inexcusably lazy if a day went by without it. It was the last day remaining before the companies' departure; he was not certain what remained to be done, but at the least he could spend a few minutes in his sanctuary before facing whatever tasks awaited.
Only moments after he arrived, the sound of footsteps met his ears; it was one he had learned to recognize, a mirror of its owner: steady, even, unhurried. Ordhan nodded at Constans when he appeared. The two exchanged greetings, as usual, and in the same manner fell into stance and began. Ordhan was weary before he began, the lack of sleep taking its toll. It was much longer than usual before he slipped past Constans's defenses (which were better than ever, the young man was certainly improving). So it was that when Constans drew back, breathless, that Ordhan found himself winded as well, a hunch to his shoulders as he held his sword and shield and a stoop to his posture not there before the match.
"Very good, Constans," he said, allowing the warmth of pride into his tone. He hesitated. It seemed weak to draw back so soon. It seemed...well, old. His pride was not so much that he would exhaust himself so early in the day, however. "If I may have a moment to rest? I am not quite myself, this morning." He dipped his head in sheepish apology.