11th Day of Fall, 523 AV
As the sun crested the horizon at the seventh bell of the day, Nayato was already standing within the small arena of the Proving Grounds. He had awoken from his bed at the barracks around the fourth bell, showed his brand to Marshal Tarak at The Gold Lodge to eat a light breakfast there, before making his way over to the Proving Grounds.
When Captain Eleuia told Nayato yesterday to arrive early for training he took her words seriously.
The rookie boxer set all of his weaponry, a backpack, the breastplate of his leather armor, and his linen shirt down on a section of the bench seating that looked down onto the arena floor. Nayato walked about the sands of the arena, running his fingers along the full length of the inner wall as he waited for the captain. He made one full pass before remembering Eleuia’s instructions for him to shadow box whenever he had free time. The Boxer took up the same spot he was in yesterday at the center of the arena. He raised both his hands up before curling his fingers into fists to stand in a boxing stance.
He stood with his feet at a shoulders width apart with his non-dominant left foot forward by half of a step of his natural gait. He mostly stood on the balls of his feet with his heels raised off the ground. The Boxer tested his balance by bending at his knees to see if his ankles would roll. He stood at a natural height of six foot two inches in height and felt a slight pinch at his ankle as he bounced along the balls of his feet. He got rid of the pain by shifting his stance two more inches wider apart to accommodate his height. Nayato began to shadowbox against an invisible enemy once he felt comfortable with his stance.
He jabbed out at the air as if to strike at the face of someone who stood at an equal height to himself. His lead fist was sent on a very slow trip out into the open air in a straight line from his shoulder, with no other dip or swaying of his body. It was a slow jab that he used to warm up the rotation of his shoulder and grow comfortable with the length of his arm to understand his own attack range. His rear right hand remained upright by the side of his face in a guard position the entire time he punched.
Nayato shadowboxed in silence with the only sounds he could hear being his own intense breathing. It took about ten more ticks before he heard other Dragoons starting their own personal practices around the Proving Grounds. He unfurled his fingers to stretch his palm when the black freckles on his fingertips felt the cooling pull of water that informed him there was motion coming from his left.
He knew someone was approaching him and turned his attention to them.
“You arrived before I did. Good.” A woman’s voice called out from the entrance into the arena.
Nayato pivoted on his lead foot to face Captain Eleuia as he balled his fist back up to maintain his boxing stance. “Run around the arena to continue to warm up until I tell you to stop.”
Nayato began to run around the arena at a pace that was slightly above that of a jog.
His boots drummed against the dirt as he kept his head and shoulders upright. He stood tall because he was not truly running with proper form, but instead he kept his hands up in an upright boxing stance. He made three passes around the arena before his sides started to burn which slowed his pace down enough to be considered a jog. Nayato grunted against the sensations of cardiovascular pain as he willed his feet to continue onward as soon as his step struck at the ground.
When Captain Eleuia told Nayato yesterday to arrive early for training he took her words seriously.
The rookie boxer set all of his weaponry, a backpack, the breastplate of his leather armor, and his linen shirt down on a section of the bench seating that looked down onto the arena floor. Nayato walked about the sands of the arena, running his fingers along the full length of the inner wall as he waited for the captain. He made one full pass before remembering Eleuia’s instructions for him to shadow box whenever he had free time. The Boxer took up the same spot he was in yesterday at the center of the arena. He raised both his hands up before curling his fingers into fists to stand in a boxing stance.
He stood with his feet at a shoulders width apart with his non-dominant left foot forward by half of a step of his natural gait. He mostly stood on the balls of his feet with his heels raised off the ground. The Boxer tested his balance by bending at his knees to see if his ankles would roll. He stood at a natural height of six foot two inches in height and felt a slight pinch at his ankle as he bounced along the balls of his feet. He got rid of the pain by shifting his stance two more inches wider apart to accommodate his height. Nayato began to shadowbox against an invisible enemy once he felt comfortable with his stance.
He jabbed out at the air as if to strike at the face of someone who stood at an equal height to himself. His lead fist was sent on a very slow trip out into the open air in a straight line from his shoulder, with no other dip or swaying of his body. It was a slow jab that he used to warm up the rotation of his shoulder and grow comfortable with the length of his arm to understand his own attack range. His rear right hand remained upright by the side of his face in a guard position the entire time he punched.
Nayato shadowboxed in silence with the only sounds he could hear being his own intense breathing. It took about ten more ticks before he heard other Dragoons starting their own personal practices around the Proving Grounds. He unfurled his fingers to stretch his palm when the black freckles on his fingertips felt the cooling pull of water that informed him there was motion coming from his left.
He knew someone was approaching him and turned his attention to them.
“You arrived before I did. Good.” A woman’s voice called out from the entrance into the arena.
Nayato pivoted on his lead foot to face Captain Eleuia as he balled his fist back up to maintain his boxing stance. “Run around the arena to continue to warm up until I tell you to stop.”
Nayato began to run around the arena at a pace that was slightly above that of a jog.
His boots drummed against the dirt as he kept his head and shoulders upright. He stood tall because he was not truly running with proper form, but instead he kept his hands up in an upright boxing stance. He made three passes around the arena before his sides started to burn which slowed his pace down enough to be considered a jog. Nayato grunted against the sensations of cardiovascular pain as he willed his feet to continue onward as soon as his step struck at the ground.
WC: 652
