Learning to breath again

Bae-Syl sits, pondering how he will teach his son tonight. There are so many lessons he wants to give them all. But they all had dispersed into the winds. Gav had headed north with Beauregard to support his friend, a noble cause, so he should be back soon enough.

Bae-Syl narrows his eyes as a decision is made. He will begin them with a spar. It is the best way to teach Jericho. As he hears his son finally approaching Bae-Syl stands and turns to face his son. There in his eyes, Jericho holds determination to learn. Good. It would serve him well. Bae-Syl rolls his shoulders, a crack sounding from his bad one as it audibly clicks into place, yet there is no pain. Jericho asks, no demands, to be taught to be a better protector. A smirk slides onto Bae-Syl's lips. "You want to become better, then best me Jericho. Make me yield to you, then I will tell you of my family and their belief in strength."

He steadied his breath. The lights danced along both their forms and Bae-Syl was able to see as if it was daylight. A brief moment and a tensing of muscles, then a breath and they were released. He came jaws opening seeking his son's neck, as his body aimed to slam into him. His aim? To put the boy beneath him and show him just how strong his dad really felt.

"Speech!"