7: Jorin

I raised my sword again and charged. A moment later I was on my face in the grass, the rich scent of earth in my nose, just a vague impression of the touch of a heavy hand on my shoulder still in my skin. I pushed myself to my knees.

“Again, cub.”

“Bear, I’ve had enough.”

“Again. The only way you’ll grow into that sword is if I keep making you lift it.” He laughed. Making comments about how I needed more meat on my bones was a usual tack for him.

I got to my feet. The sword was heavier than the one I had been using the past few weeks and my shoulders and arms ached. I was tired and sweat was stinging my eyes. “I was better with the smaller sword,” I pointed out.

“Soon you’ll be just as good with this one,” Bear said with an indulgent smile. “Once you put some meat on your bones.”

I attacked him, but the sword made me too slow again, and took too much effort to wield. He had me on my back before I could even bring it all the way around and it fell with a heavy thud a moment after I did. I groaned. “You’re just angry that with the lighter one I could beat you all the time,” I said, looking up at the clouds with a grin.

Bear’s bearded face and his own toothy grin came into view as he looked down...