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Apparently the best way to get some time to himself was to proclaim that he was either going to take a shower (which would threaten to actually make the zomboil in his room clean) or to do something else that the zomboil would not enjoy so much that he would not accompany him. Running was one such thing. After the first day Yin had went back to training, but mostly what he could do in his room. Tai chi, sit-ups, push-ups. All of those sorts of things. Then slowly the boils had began leaving his room, first to go to Miss Taryn's, then to go take classes by themselves, then to spar.

And the spar was the reason that Yin needed to get away. He was happy in some ways. He enjoyed being bonded to someone strong, someone who could take care of himself. The spar had for the most part been fun, though he still saw that flash of something else that had risen in the zomboil's eye and wondered what it meant exactly. If he had come close to losing control.

His feet were pounding down the path, and he absolutely loved being outside of his room. Literally stretching his legs. Doing something to try to burn off some of the pent up energy. But not quite running away from that niggling problem. That insecurity that had been building. All of his talk about knowing what he was doing. All of his years and years and years and years of nothing but training, nigh on dawn til dusk, and what did he have to show for it? One fight that he had won since he had come to the school. Several draws. Several loses. Sure, he had taken time and energy to heal his opponent yesterday when he could have been attacking, but what did that actually say about him? If Alexander had been wounded in a battle would he have taken the time to heal him rather than face an opponent? Had he really just done it because it was a simple spar?

What was his purpose anymore if the only thing that he claimed to be good at was something that...everyone he faced was actually better at? It terrified him. The idea of not having a purpose. Of being entirely useless. After all, who would wish to keep an entirely useless boil around?

It was win he was just beginning to sink into these questions of despair that a familiar frame came into his line of vision, also running around the school. Lady Hel. And suddenly things began to line up in his mind. Lady Hel trained, and she was a good fighter. She knew what she was doing. She was precisely the type of person that might be able to answer some of the questions that he was beginning to give a bit too much attention. Putting on a burst of speed he ran up beside her and then matched her pace before addressing her. "Greetings Lady Hel." Oh, did he just use the title he had given her? Moving right along..."I was wondering if you would do me the honor of sparring with me this morning? If you are not too busy that is." The gymnasium was in sight, so it would be rather easy of them to just go ahead and run straight there if she agreed.

((Why not roll for initiative now? ;D ))

He would not be saying Lady Hel again. Out loud.

But he was glad that she was in the same place that he was. Never too busy for a spar, ready to get into battle. This ghoul actually had a proper fighting stance, and he assumed his own, legs bent at the knees, arms up and as limp-wristed as ever. "Advanced? Yes, I was promoted a year after," an odd look passed over his face, "the trials."

But if she actually expected him to go first she was mistaken. He gestured toward her with one long hand. "It would be nice to see if anything has changed."

HP: 40
Damage: ROFL NAW

"Yes," he said, not really sure what to talk about with the ghoul. For the moment he avoided it. "You train daily do you not?" Lady Hel, he added mentally. "Do you...do you ever ponder if it really helps?" It was hard to phrase exactly what he really wanted to ask, but he had to say something about it.

Looking slightly confused at his own question he moved in for the first attack, a lightly balled fist raised and jabbing toward the reaper.

HP: 40/40
Damage: 4

Okay, those blunt words rather made sense. "Nothing accomplishes nothing," he agreed easily enough. "But what if training accomplishes nothing as well? That no matter what hours are spent to hone skills and work on physical abilities sheer strength can make it all useless?"

He was asking her the questions honestly, needing to hear an answer, any answer. Validation or even something to tell him that no, no it was not worth it. To focus him on something else. She had barely grazed him with her attack but for now he needed answers more than he needed to fight, though that was certainly still a pressing need.

HP: 39/40
Damage: oh god wry OTL

"Not with hunters," he blurted out before he really thought about it as a fist hit him in the side, though he knew it was without the ghoul's full power. Because, as much as losing a fight to Alexander had bothered him when he knew that the zomboil had only trained at most a handful of times, it was the trials that lingered in the back of his mind. The way that they used gas to knock him out, first the masked boil in the haunted house, then him and his teammates during the trials.

And if they were the ones that won in a match...well, effort did not count. They could just do whatever they wanted apparently. It was frustrating. No training and someone with sheer strength could overpower him. Or someone could just come along and attack so that he could not breath properly, until he was unconscious without even a real fight.

Obviously bothered by it he brought his leg up quickly, turning to deliver quick side kick aimed at her abdomen.

HP: 36
Damage: 5

He listened to her closely and then paused for a moment, making his right hand into a fist and pressing it to the open palm of his left hand as he gave her a small bow. "You are correct Lady Hel," whoops, there it was again, "even if it does not seem to do much good we must try. I shall not forget this again."

He slipped back into a fighting position and eyed her, noting the guarded position that she held her hands. So this time he dropped into a crouch and swept a leg out at her feet, unsure if he could actually cause her to fall if he hit with her steady fighting stance and the possibility of her wings being used to help her balance (did it work like that for feathered wings?) but determined to try.

"Do hunters...target Amityville?" He had certainly never heard of them before coming here.

HP: 36
Damage: 7

He could not let that name slip again, and he knew it. He tried not to wince at it and just aimed to distract her with conversation. "But why Amityville? There is not anything special about the school is there?"

She was already defending again. He needed to do something unorthodox, something she would not expect. He moved forward rapidly, one finger extended with the others partially curled, a standard mantis-hook fighting pose. He aimed for a pressure point just at the base of her neck, striking out, deciding that even if he missed the pressure point on the ghoul he might do some damage with the blow or his clawed fingers.

HP: 36
Damage: 6

He had to get stronger. He was weak and weaknesses could be exploited. "If they are determined to fight us I shall not back away from the challenge." Whether it was for simply defending himself, his friends, or even those students weaker than him...he would fight.

That attack...had worked. Pressure points were something he was trained to fight against, but so was every mantis. Attacking them was attacking a well defended area...but if she was not expecting it...

She knocked the wind out of him and he gasped for air, but she only sent him back a pace. Quickly he was darting forward, striking at a point on her arm. If he could disable her arm, or even slow its use...

HP: 33
Damage: 2