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Gawain slowed as well, the duel coming to a close not by blood drawn by either side, but rather the words of the spectator. Unfortunately, for the Caster of the Feather Fan, the knight wasn't nearly as well-mannered as Diarmuid; the moment he vanished, Gawain grinned mischieviously towards Diarmuid. He hopped off Gringolet, patting the horse's flank, before rotating his right shoulder slowly. It hadn't ever gotten to the point of being wholly oppressive, but now that the abnormal weight was gone from his body, the Knight of the Surcoat certainly felt twice as light.

[b]"Well, looks like he's gone now, so...if not a fight, how 'bout just a duel, Diarmuid? Or hey, if that still sounds too violent, let's call it a nice, relaxing sparring session?"[/b] The polished sword spun in lazy circles. [b]"Nothing's more depressing than ending a fight without a conclusion, y'know?"[/b]