Quickly I find myself brimming with questions- queries about the stones, and the fights I will have to face. But before we know it, we have reached the other side of the coliseum towards where the others wait impatiently for our arrival, and so those words quickly slip away into the misty morning sky.
"You kick Dreyfus' arse?" Tarquin snickers as we approach, looking between us expectantly for any sort of reaction. Despite the fact that Tarquin has partaken in no manner of sword fighting whatsoever this morning (bar the spectating of it), his face is flushed and his voice unusually breathless. By the sounds of it, he has spent the large majority of his time yelling words of encouragement to the two boys behind him, who now shake hands to signify the end of their duel.
