"I am not a science, either," Kurt agreed with a light chuckle, shoulders bouncing lightly with his laugh. It was a genuine sound, neither forced nor overly polite, just a pure expression of warmth which bubbled up from his core in the form of a laugh. While his English was quite good, he often got lost during wordy, technical explanations of things, so he was happy when it was left at that. So long as he would not hurt his new sparring partner, he was satisfied.
Cautiously, Kurt did as told, lightly tapping the side of his blade to the extended arm. He gave a soft gasp of delight at the metallic clang that resulted. "That is amazing!" He spoke quietly, breathy voice filled with wonder. he let metal swivel over metals as he moved the blade, twisting his wrist to ensure it was durable enough to not give or bend under the pressure of his sword, quite pleased when it proved to be strong enough. "Are you trained?" It was another important question to him, it was unfair to use advanced moves against a beginner. Unless he was showing off. Which you know, he just might do. A little.
Breaking into a delighted, impish little grin, Kurt hopped back and struck a fencing stance. That was all the warning he gave before he rushed at his practice opponent, every movement was a visual poetry of grace, speed, fur and metal in motion. The blade was clearly an extension of his own body, and his smile never faded as he crossed swords with the pink haired mutant. Scion was clearly below his skill level, but Kurt did not mind in the least. The slightly slower, less disciplined movements gave him time to show off. A flourish of the blade here, a back flip there, a playful swat of the flat of the blade across Scion's rump now and again. While it was showing off, it also left him open and vulnerable for a few moments, and gave him the chance to learn to recover his position and test his reflexes while his blade was not where it was supposed to be.
While it was near impossible to tell, thanks to the nature of his eyes, Kurt focused most of his attention on the torso of his opponent. Arms could flail, feet could misdirect, but where the chest and shoulders went, the body followed. It was a rule his swordplay master taught him, and it served him well. He was pleased with the match, Scion was no Shatterstar, but knew enough of what he was doing to let Kurt flex some muscles that had been begging to be used. He called warm teases and praises now and again, allowing Fredrick to gain the upper hand now and again. After all, perpetually losing was no fun at all. Kurt was doing such a thing, going on the defensive and letting Slade push him back when he noticed someone waiting patiently behind Scion's back. A friend, Kurt thought. With little warning, he blocked Fredrick's blade, shoved it back, threw his agile body into a backwards hand-spring and rebounded off the trunk of a tree he found behind himself. His wallcrawling served him well, letting him cling for the fraction of a second it took for him to get his bearings, then he pushed off, tucking his body into a tight ball and landed beside the man who had clearly been waiting.
Still all grins and breathing heavily, Kurt flashed Scion a smile and gestured with his blade to show he was calling the match to an end. "That was gute!" He beamed through soft, panted breaths. "But I believe you have someone who desires your attention." He motioned to Nicholas. "We should practice again, danke."