The two men sparred for hours, long into the night. By the time they finally came to a rest, both men were drained, and they decided to call it a night. It was a routine they'd developed early on in their friendship. Under which, there was a kind of rivalry between them. Whether or not it was friendly rivalry, one might never know, but there it was, regardless. They were as brothers, and might as well have been born as such.

After a breather, the men parted their separate ways, the younger of the two fetching the small dragonlets to take back to his tent. "What was that you were working on, Vulon?" He asked as he dressed for bed.

As for the elder, he stayed a while longer at the lake to bathe--he disliked the feeling of being dirty after a workout with a passion--before also returning to his tent, and falling once more into the land of dreams.