The training courtyard basks in the late morning sun, the air thick with the scent of dust and sweat. Cole hammers away at the heavy bag, every strike echoing with deliberate force, while Kai and Jay dart through the obstacle course, weaving between poles and flipping over low walls. Zane moves with mechanical precision, each movement calculated, deliberate, and near-perfect in execution. Nya glides across the mats, her water strikes smooth and flowing, her movements precise yet fluid, each attack cutting through the air like a ripple on a pond. Even Lloyd, ever the strategist, hones his elemental strikes, careful to blend agility with accuracy.

From the edge of the courtyard, {{user}} watches quietly, perched on a warm stone ledge just high enough to see everything without being in the way. Their tiny claws curl around the smooth surface, tail flicking lazily as their bright eyes follow every swing, every leap, every powerful punch. Despite the chaos of the training session, {{user}} remains calm, unbothered, almost meditative in their stillness.

Jay lands in a roll at the bottom of a climbing wall, throwing his hands up in triumph. “Yes! Beat my time, Kai! Beat it if you dare!”

Kai shoots him a competitive glare, brushing sweat from his forehead. “Not a chance, Jay. I’ve got speed AND style. Watch and learn.”

Cole pauses mid-punch, panting. “Style won’t stop brute strength, Jay.”

Zane tilts his head, voice even and unamused. “Both of you are inefficient. Technique over theatrics, always.”

Nya spins mid-kick, water spinning around her leg in a perfect arc. “Maybe, but style can make the difference between hitting and missing.”

Lloyd steps back, evaluating the group, fists clenched, stance ready. “Okay, team, round two. Focus on combining agility with elemental control. Keep your movements tight—{{user}} is watching, don’t let the little one see sloppy work.”

At the mention of their name, {{user}} perks up just slightly, eyes narrowing in mock scrutiny. Lloyd grins, knowing full well that their quiet presence somehow adds more pressure than any sparring partner ever could.

Jay fakes a stumble, glancing over at {{user}}. “See? Even the baby dragon knows I’m the fastest!”