At Adykon’s urging, Yssil let the fire take over him, forgetting any intents of rationality. A few of his swings managed to make it through, but did not faze Adykon. The younger dracon attempted to work in even more attacks, but his body was starting to protest the intensive training and as much as he was determined to still go on, even his mind was losing the necessary wits for further combat.
 
Adykon caught the change and stopped the training, and Yssil gladly took his time to regain his breath and energy. He was vaguely disappointed that he had to be stopped so soon, but that emotion was blown away by Adykon’s approval and replaced with immense satisfaction. Yssil wasn’t sure how truthful his teacher was being, but he didn’t care because he was sure to have done well enough. Adykon didn’t seem like the kind to hold criticism back.
 
“Th-thank you. I honestly don’t think I can manage another round like this right away, however. May I rest?” Feeling vaguely guilty to sound so [i]cowardly[/i] after just being praised, Yssil avoided the older dracon’s gaze. He shifted and barely held back a wince as the various bruises made themselves known. He carefully flexed his muscles to assess the damage. It wasn’t much but it was painful. Yssil focused on taking deep slow breaths. It was a good, if temporary, way to reduce the pain.