Two figures were walking toward the camp under the moonlight, talking and laughing.
It was Nami and Noah.
The training ground was behind them, the camp's distant torchlight ahead through the tree line, and between the two points there was just the night and the sound of their boots on packed earth and whatever Nami had just said that was making Noah laugh harder than he probably should have been.
"You're exaggerating," he managed.
"I'm not. He did it twice. Same move. Twice. And looked surprised both times when it didn't work."
"That's not—" Noah pressed his hand over his mouth for a second. "That's not possible. Nobody does the same thing twice."
"This one did. I watched it happen. I stood there and watched him run the same approach at the same target dummy and wonder why it kept not working." Nami shook her head, her braid swaying with the motion. "Honestly it was impressive in its own way. That level of commitment to a mistake takes dedication."
