[b][i]Before the Night Raid
------------------------------[/i][/b]

Tennant clenched his fists tight in front of his face. Squinting his eyes and slowing his breathing, he drowned out all the signs of his immediate outdoor surroundings. The howling wind became a mere breeze, the freezing cold became but a frosty tinge, the bright orange sunset turned into a pale haze.

The fighter assumed a Boxing stance, keeping his guard up to such a degree that it covered his already-impaired cycloptic vision, but he nonetheless knew what direction his fists had to take.

He began to count down in his head. 1... 2...

He suddenly burst forth from his guard and struck, with a jab, the overstuffed dust sack he had tied to the rock. The one on the upper left. The impact caused it to effectively explode, releasing a cloud of dust into his vision and forcing him to retreat behind his guard once again.

3... 4... 5...

He burst forth once again, this time ducking to avoid the bulk of the dust cloud, and throwing three punches in quick succession; mid-left, bottom-left, mid-bottom. With each fierce punch, he exploded three more dust sacks, throwing an even bigger cloud of dust onto his body, but he once again shielded his eyes.

6... 7... 8...

Tennant hopped backwards; while this was happening, one of the flour sacks could theoretically have contained a deadly Elsweyri insect, ready to launch itself at him and sink its poisonous fangs into his neck. That would not do. Peering downwards, he saw what looked like a small chunk of Earth. Wasting no time, he turned slightly to his right and stomped it flat. That was the insect that could have killed him. But it had not. His awareness had disallowed it.

9... 10... 11... 12...

But wait! There could be more insects hidden inside another sack. In fact, Tennant was sure one of them... the one slap-bang in the middle... had something solid inside it when he was wrapping them around the rock. It might have been just another bit of Earth, but no chances were to be taken. The large fighter hopped to his right with surprising agility, mirroring his previous position, before once again exposing his eyes to the dust for a mere moment. He ducked and lunged forward with a mighty Cross, aimed slightly upwards and slightly to the left, so as to burst the middle sack in such a way that any deadly insects contained within would fly harmlessly over his head.

"Ugh...ach!"

Though Tennant had already burst the middle sack and covered his eye once more, he practically froze in place once that hacking and coughing noise coming from behind registered in his mind. Somebody had managed to enter his general vicinity while he was preoccupied.. but the question was, who?

Holding up one forearm to shield his eye and keeping his the fist of his other arm reeled back in preparation for a potential defence, he swivelled around on the spot. The sight that greeted him was a rather young Nord, possibly a teenager, dressed in ragged clothing and waving his arms about to clear the clouds of dust Tennant had created with his training.

Tennant relaxed his posture, standing straight and resting his hands on his suspenders. He recognised this cub. He was one of the new fighters at the mercenary camp. One of those that was obviously way in over their head; though from what he understood, the Redguard in charge of the place knew this perfectly well.

"Agh..." The boy finally cleared the dust from his vision, and looked Tennant in the eye... as best he could, anyway. Being an extremely tall, one-eyed man will have that effect.

"Are you Tennant, uh... Ibnaz?" The boy said, nervously.

"Ibnazh." Tennant corrected him with lightning speed. It was a common mistake, a mistake that is corrected so often that it eventually turns from a chore into an automatic response. Tennant barely recognised he'd said it. The frown on his face was meant to convey annoyance at having his exercise interrupted, instead.

"S-sorry." The boy apologised after a pause. He then tried to stand straight in an admirable but transparent attempt to seem authoritative. "Ahem, the Head Scout had picked some names out of a hat and- well, not literally a hat, y'know, just... randomly selected some names for patrol duty. Well, not all of the names, he left out the names of people who'd done it already, and quite a lot of people have done it already, so it's not really much of a, uh, surprise that-"

"Get to the point, cub." Tennant cut in, figuratively and literally, since he also chose that moment to start walking past him. He already knew where this was going.

"Aye. Sorry." The boy apologised again, before seemingly noticing that Tennant was walking away. The boy power-walked to get back in front of him. "You've been picked for a nighttime patrol. Uh... now, I think. You should go to the main gate."

"...I see." Tennant replied, pinching the slightly sweaty bridge of his nose, as if to fire up his senses again; though one could be forgiven for thinking he was taken aback. He angled his view downwards, noticing that the boy was practically quaking in his shoes. 

"Tell me, cub, do you really want to be here right now?" He asked, beginning to walk again, untying the now-dusty tunic previously tied around his waist as he did so.

"Um... well, not really..." The boy walked with him again, this time apparently making a conscious effort to walk with 'seriousness' and avoid shaking too much. "...But it's something that's gotta be done, yea? Everyone has to fight these days. I-if you don't fight, you die, simple as that."

"Maybe." Tennant stopped upon reaching an old tree stump where he had placed a cup of lukewarm water, crouching momentarily to pick it up. "...But when you tremble like that, it gives me the sad impression you're going to get yourself killed horribly because you felt the need to prove your manliness by going off to war ten years too early. Think about that."

With that bit of advice, Tennant downed the water in one go, enabling some of it to dribble out of his mouth and on to his chest. Carelessly tossing it towards the boy, he proceeded to slide his thick grey tunic over his large torso.

The boy managed to catch the empty cup. "But I-" He managed to half-heartedly stammer out, but it was ignored. Tennant simply lumbered his way towards the main gate with purpose, taking slow but long strides, and his expression blank.

He may have been confident that he was one of the few people who knew what he was doing, but really, whether he faced victory or defeat, both outcomes would force improvement out of him. All he had to do was take it all in.