#* rainer

Never have they experienced what mortals would call a headache, but certainly, Morgana has come close. The clash of blade against blade feels inherently obnoxious after all this time and as easily as breathing, Morgana rolls her eyes. "Honestly," her voice is small and doesn't emanate any further than the space upon his shoulder, "Have you done anything else other than spar since I last saw you?" It's said in mockery - gentle, friendly, just as she appeared in a flurry of pixie dust, perched upon his shoulder in her smallest - yet truest form. The steel of his weapon imploded into an array of dandelions in the same moment, "Don't you ever bore, Rainer?"