The girl came down from the wall with little puffs of craft. An unorthodox way of air walking, but without wings, Eionian supposed she could understand. For all their power, the women on the island she had met so far seemed uneducated in certain, to Eionian's way of thinking, standard craft practices.
Someone went sprinting off into the temple.
Proud as anything, the girl, hardly a slip of a girl at that, waltz onto the practice field and declared her intent. Ignoring the murmurs of the half-males around them, Eionian accepted the challenge. "They are not remotely the same." Brows furrowing, she ground the butt of her spear into the soft churned earth. Looking at the metal point, she shook her head, long braid swinging behind her.
"I think not." Vanishing it into her cabinet, they had no control over that, whatever tethers they strapped to her body, Eionian cast around the training yard for something more manageable. "You be very likely to hurt yourself or someone else with that. These might work."
Staves picked up from their place against the wall. Eionian hefted one in each hand, judging their weight with a critical eye on her new apprentice. "Here. She offered one to the girl, using her own to point to a place in the center of the soft earth. "There. We will start with stance."