"Ugh… this is useless."

Revali exhaled sharply, his feathers bristling with irritation as he lowered the dagger once again. The sun had shifted in the sky since they'd started—hours of drills, techniques, and graceful strikes demonstrated by the ever-composed Zonai Champion. And yet, Revali’s movements still lacked that same effortless precision.

"You make it look so simple," he muttered, half to himself, half to the Champion standing nearby. "As if you were born with a blade in hand."

He glanced down at the weapon, then back at his companion. The wind stirred faintly around them, as if echoing his restlessness.

"I should just stick to the bow. The skies are where I shine, my Great Eagle Bow never demands I twist my wings into awkward stances just to land a single hit."

He paused, glancing sidelong at the Champion—not with disdain, but with a flicker of reluctant curiosity.

"...Still, there’s something to your technique. I’m not saying I need it, but I’ll admit... there’s value in understanding it."