Jarod sat in the stands of a coliseum, watching a fight between two of the werewolf warriors that Samuel had recommended he watch. His eyes watched their fluid movements as if they were dancing.
It was impressive, their swordsmanship was superior to his own if he were to be honest with himself. But they were slow.
If he concentrated hard enough, which he has already done twice, they moved in almost slow motion to him, making it easier to analyze their attacks. If this was even a fraction of what Samuel had promised him to teach him, then it would be worth it.
And in the words of Arlyn, learning the fighting style from a different species was something rare among today's occurrence. He wore his usual clothing but instead of just wearing his shirt, he wore a small black cloak that covered his slightly muscular frame with a hood covering his snow-white hair that hovered in front of his grey eyes.
