[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/e733675fdccb10e2ac7c5210f3161a2a.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/201114/bc6f475fea3cb608b073822f0c581099.png[/img][/center] [hr] A low, almost rumbling chuckle rose from Selma's belly, as she took in turn the rod, then sandwich from her newly christened teammate. Aoife Sturmgaard, as she had grown to know in the weeks following their induction as Ars Magi trainees, was the queen of wave and storm. Normally still and placid, easygoing as the babbling brook at which they sat, but thrown into combat she was as the hurricane itself, the crashing waves that tore against the coast. In that sense Selma found a kinship that was almost impossible to ignore, even in the face of the natural awkwardness of having her as a late arrival to their motley crew. Rod in her right hand, she took a moment to offer a small well wish towards the next life to the worm that writhed around the dangling metal hook. It was nice to have another person that approached fights for the pure [i]thrill[/i] of it— Rivka was one to enjoy herself, sure, but hers was a pursuit of beautiful symphony, an orchestra in motion, everything falling into its perfect place, harmonizing as she sculpted it. Crystal was a technician to the core, trained well and composed when it counted, but she seemed to not quite take the same joy, to feel less of the [i]revelry[/i] Selma felt in a brawl. Chie, to her eternal credit, had clearly been making strides in Selma's watchful eye, settling in as the weeks of training and structured fostering of their abilities gave her a true base of skill to fall back on. She was still very much a work in progress— they [i]all[/i] were, but Selma couldn't help but admit that she was probably the closest one here to a normal young girl when it came to mentality. Sandwich in her left, she took a hearty bite, letting the tang of mustard explode over her tongue as it brightened the savory ham and nutty cheese between the bread, ponderously chewing. On one hand, it would put her at a bit of a disadvantage as Ars Magi put themselves regularly in extraordinary situations, forcing a harsher adjustment in attitude than the others— but on the other, it also meant she was the furthest from forgetting her roots as one of the people they were pledging their lives to protect. That was every bit as important as being able to turn on killer instinct in Selma's mind. She'd been sure to try to remind her of that in the many nighttime chats they'd shared as roommates. She had her own strengths, things the rest of them could never do. Stuff like that. But Aoife seemed to share the [i]joy[/i] Selma took in battle. She did not require perfection, she had no need of second guesses. She flowed through the chaos and energy of combat, ebbing and rippling with it as though born for the clamor. It was an easy point of kinship, only fostered through the combat exercises the school had put the two through. One was the flowing river, taking the form of the ever-changing vessel of her combative context, a master of the field. The other was a sturdy mountain, in many ways unbothered and welcoming of all the war that its face beheld— an ever-present part of the field itself, laughing even as the world around it shifted. With a single raise of the elbow and flick of the wrist, the big girl cast her line, turning to meet the Sturmgaard name's latest and greatest product with a gentle smirk. [color=00a99d]"Every day. Like you wouldn't [i]believe[/i]. Whenever we finish a lesson I wanna collapse onto a hay bale and not think for the next week."[/color] she said, plain as the morning slowly rising around them. The light of the stream, a dancing cascade of patterns in white against her emerald eyes, seemed to take a wistful tint. [color=00a99d]"At the very least, I wish I could tell my family so i could make sure I got it all right, y'know?"[/color] Her left hand, freshly relieved of sandwich after transferring it to the mouth where it slowly retreated in behind her teeth, made a loose fist and rapped against her skull, sending moss-colored locks in a light sway. [color=00a99d]"Ol' rohck brain don' work too goo', y'know?"[/color] she joked through proteins and carbohydrates with what seemed to be practiced clarity. Taking a moment to finish her food properly, she then snorted. [color=00a99d]"Hell, I was [i]born[/i] missing home. It's why I wanted this, after all... Family's been wanting to go back to the Black Forest since long before me."[/color] The wistful tint went somewhere far, far away for one, two, then three moments before blinking away as she returned to the present. [color=00a99d]"We are, aren't we?"[/color] she agreed, a toothy grin blossoming into her cheeks as she playfully punched the smaller girl on the shoulder. [color=00a99d]"You an' I are must-see-TV, even compared to everyone else."[/color] Sensing a tug on the rod, she leaned forward, gripping the reel. [color=00a99d]"We're all gonna be great. With how long [i]I[/i] take to learn things, I know for a fact that you four are wowin' everyone already. Wouldn't trade you girls for the world."[/color]