[He raises his eyebrows and gives an impressed not to the fact that Saturday just, well. Grew a sword out of her arm. He does a soft, miniature mimic of the direction her hands and arms are moving, before he follows her lead for those quick, precise strikes. They look better on her, but that's to be expected.

He's not sure if it'll start to make sense ever, but he doesn't want to contradict his teachers, so he decides to trust them. He watches closely at everything that's happening, both as Saturday moves and as he himself moves; he's always been good at picking things up quickly, mostly because he's good at observing both the larger gist and details on the first round. It's a skill his parents drilled into him. He expects it'll help him out here.]

We ought to make a regular thing of this, if y'all are willing. I'm certainly getting more out of it than from Planker's exercises in sadism. [He shifts back out of a fighting stance, rolling his shoulder with a wince.] I think I wrenched myself on those monkey bars, though. I won't get then full benefit of your instruction right now.

[He's not looking for an out; he sounds, and is, genuinely excited by the idea of the three of them doing this again sometime.]