[Gossamer]

That Nimavel did not take the first move didn't surprise Kimsan. He didn't mind, for there was no true first and last within the Rasha'Shing. Indeed, there were rather circles upon circles interwoven together. He could see some of those mentioned circles that brought the elf before him. And further than perhaps Nimavel could see, Kimsan could see the broken line of uncertainty and change behind him. The elf lord was standing on the brink of a new life, something far different than he'd had before, and within that particular circle the elf stood uncertain. The monk also saw the circles radiating from the here and now into the future. There'd be more change, drastic and irreparable. The life before him was not an easy one, nor one who lived comfortably within what he had defined as his world.

In some ways, such encounters reminded Kimsan of why his place at the Sunn Monestary was so important. Here, his circles were always grounded. Never did they cut loose and drift uncertainly like Nimavel's did.

Suddenly, the monk moved, but it wasn't an attack. Because of the plant that had disolved on his tongue, Nimavel saw clearly what the monk did. He spun in place, arms open, and drew the energy of the Rasha'Shing to them, weaving a barrier around them. It was a vast barrier, but it was one of privacy and protection, allowing them to have their conversation alone and unwitnessed by either outside eyes or outside ears. The Sunn Father gave Nimavel a pointed look, and then smiled slowly.

"This is as much of a confessional as it is a spar. Let your body talk for you, Nimavel, and dance within the Rhasa'Shing... let it tell your story, for I see your broken circles and uncertainty stretching out from here, and back into the past. Your life will get harder before it settles down. That much is certain. " And with that, The Sunn Father gave him the opening words. Once the protective weave was in place, The Sunn Monk stepped up onto the energy and let it hold him up, aloft, within the air... and challenged Nimavel to do the same.

And as he did so, Nimavel realized something suddenly. Their battle wouldn't be bound to the ground. It wouldn't be bound at all. The feeling was... as if a hawk was suddenly unfettered and released into the sky to soar in a three dimensional space filled with air currents and winds more than willing to buoy one up.

The Sunn Father waited, delight upon his face. Battles were not about pain and strength, no... they were about self discovery.