After a long mission, Hawkman returned to the JL HQ. His mace in his grip as he and his paramour, Hawkwoman. Side by side, they headed towards the meeting room to debrief.

After a moment to debrief and hand out (verbally) the reports of the mission's success, he and Hawkwoman exit the room, he and his paramour seperated ways. Hawkwoman heading off somewhere as she always did, he never really fully did know where she went off every time they returned. Though he never questioned it.

"Shayera is my life"; a common phrase he would say within himself or to others. He trusted his wife.

So off he went, he trekked off to the training room without paying much attention to it. Walking down the halls and towards the room, he passed by the other fellow League heroes, occasionally giving light nods of greetings.

Reaching the training room, he say the bareness in the room, asides from a few heroes littering here and there. Not many around meant more space for him to train. Heading to a training dummy, he got to work with practicing his mace. Not that he needed practicing, but he would rather keep in shape and keep his skills as honed and refined and sharp and...brutally consistent.

With low grunt, his mace swung and loudly thwatted and smacked against the dummy. Withstanding his blows, as the dummy was made exactly to keep from not breaking as a normal dummy would.