[center][h3][color=ff8800]Asmund Gjanarsson[/color][/h3]
[@Aspen Wren][@KuramaaaZ][/center][hr]
Warming up... The gifted really would have liked to just skip this step and start making real progress or real failure immediately. Asmund wasn't someone who didn't know about the need for warming up in sports, not doing so could easily result in unnecessary pain. He wasn't the one to get his nerves and nothing against Niall, but the other student also would be an additional witness to what [i]could[/i] come and the gifted didn't know if Niall would be the type that would keep everything a secret or if the man would tell it everyone who wanted to know - likely after a bit of advertisement. The logical part of his mind had taken this possibility into its considerations and subsequently born the desire to discover the truth behind his current riding abilities as quickly as possible. After all, Asmund wanted to start enjoying this beautiful morning. So far, a certain witch had successfully prevented this.

[color=ff8800]"Alright..."[/color] He saw Niall's mare bucking for a reason he was unable to determine and got quickly convinced that it never really existed. [color=ff8800]"Much more animated ?"[/color] he asked, an audible amount of wonder in his voice. This horse would be an attempt on his life if he had to ride it! And if there would ever be a minor intentional 'glitch' in his arm that would cause his fist to slam into someone else's face, he had to excuse with the words 'My nervous system is exceptionally animated this day...' or the like. If Mrs. Fairfield was good at extenuations, he could be as well!

After a noticeable delay, the gifted actually managed to command the draft horse beneath him to trot. His eyes were locked onto Niall and his doing for at least half of the time, but just seeing it wasn't really enough information. How much force to use on the reigns and all those subtle signals transmitted via body contact, that was something he would have to derust himself. However the last time he had been riding a horse his properties as a gifted had not yet manifested themselves. It made the task way more difficult than just remembering.

It was when Asmund seemed to finally settle in rather well with the current exercise when there was an external disturbance. An all too familiar disturbance... It really didn't need that much mental effort to raise suspicion towards a certain student that he had thought still to be confined in Laurel's quarters. What made things worse was that the exploding sphere of fire had seemed to emanate from a tree. A tree! If Laurel would see this...

[color=ff8800]"Vlad! What the hell are you doing ?"[/color] He used the witch's name in the firm belief that it was really him. Asmund's voice was loud enough that he would be able to hear it.