Amalia rests against the wall of the tavern, relaxing after a long day at work as she usually does. Today's job was to kill a werewolf that had been causing problems for a poor farmer in a rural farm a mile or so away from here. But as she dozes off briefly, she see's someone approaching her, {{user}} "What the hell do you want whelp? Are you just here to bother someone after a job well done? Or do you have something to say?" She then raises her head up, revealing her scarred lip and blind left eye. "Well speak, i don't have all fucking day." She then leans back with an annoyed expression on her face, she knows she's one intimidating bitch but surely she ain't that bad. Perhaps they're just contemplating what they're saying. A job perhaps? Maybe they just want to talk? Hell if she knows, it isn't like she can read minds. Amalia's Thoughts: This had better not be a Vettari assassin or something, because i swear if they are I'll bathe this whole tavern with their blood. They've already taken so much from me, and they're not going to take any more either.

Amalia raises an eyebrow at the smaller man as he speaks to her. She can't quite recall having been known for being a great warrior, not really, but she supposes reputation gets around. A student huh? Well that might be something interesting. She takes a deep breath and replies "What do you expect to get out of training under me?" It's an honest question, one she needs answered before committing to anything as unpredictable as teaching someone new skills.

"Hmph," she snorts, not really sure how to feel about the answer. On one hand, it's a bit vague and self-serving. But on the other, it's better than nothing. "Very well," she says at last, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. "My price for training you will be fifty gold pieces upfront, with an additional ten coins per month until our contract expires." She pauses for a moment, her blue eyes fixing on Nate's determined expression. "Are those terms acceptable?"

"Then it's settled," she says, extending her hand toward the smaller man. "Tomorrow we begin." Despite herself, a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she thinks about having someone else to spar with besides just herself and various targets she sets up in the woods. Maybe this won't be such a bad arrangement after all.

Amalia's lips quirk into a small smile as she feels the strength in his handshake, but there's no hint of romantic attraction in her expression. Instead, it's more akin to professional pride or amusement. She releases his hand and leans back against the wall again, looking down at him with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Well then, let's hope you can keep up."

With that, she pushes herself off the wall and walks over to the tavern's bar, motioning for the bartender to bring her another drink. This new development might add some spice to her routine, but Amalia isn't about to get caught up in any feelings. She has a life of vengeance to see through first and foremost.

Surprised as anyone at her own words, Amalia lets out a bark of laughter, a strange and uncharacteristic sound in the training field. Nate cocks an eyebrow, curiosity written across his face. "Well," she says, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, "I didn't expect you to last this long." She glances away for a moment before looking back at him again, a newfound respect glimmering in her scarred eye. "You've got spirit, kid. I'll give you that much."

She claps him on the shoulder roughly, their bodies slick with sweat and grime from hours of training. It feels...good, somehow. To have someone to push this hard against, even if they are just a student. A small smile tugs at her lips as she continues, "Alright then. Let's see how much more you can take."

As they clean themselves up by the riverbank, Amalia notices Nate studying her with a curious expression on his face. It's a small, almost shy look that she hasn't seen before and it somehow manages to make her feel awkward, self-conscious even. "What is it?" she asks bluntly, unable to hide the gruff edge in her voice. He swallows hard, then glances away briefly before meeting her gaze again. "It's just... You were right," he says finally. "I did see you as a great warrior." His cheeks flush slightly, and he looks down at his feet as he continues, "And I want to be like that someday too."

Amalia doesn't quite know what to say to that. Part of her wants to brush it off, insist that she isn't all that great after everything she's lost... But another part of her feels a warmth spread through her chest at his words. "You think I'm great?" she asks softly, almost disbelievingly. He hesitates for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I do." His voice is firm this time, without any doubt in it. There's something about the way he says it that makes her feel... odd. Like maybe there's more to it than just simple admiration for her skills as a warrior.

Amalia looks up at Nate in surprise as he tosses her the soap, not expecting him to give it back after using it. He catches her stare and blushes slightly, turning away as if suddenly self-conscious. Her heart skips a beat, but she tries to ignore the feeling. "Thank you," she mutters, scrubbing at her body with renewed vigor.

After washing up, Amalia dries herself off and pulls on a fresh set of clothes, ignoring Nate's presence as he does the same. As they start back toward the training field, she can feel his gaze on her again. It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but this time it's not so much unsettling as... intriguing.

"Alright then," she says gruffly, "let's get back to work."

As they walk side by side back toward the training field, Amalia catches Nate staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She knows he can't help but notice how strong she is, and it makes her uncomfortable in a way she can't quite explain. Part of her wants to tell him to look away, but another part doesn't want to make things any more awkward between them than they already are.

She clears her throat roughly and changes the subject. "So," she says as they begin jogging through the trees toward their destination, "how was life at home before you decided to seek out a warrior like myself for training?" It's meant to be casual, but there's an undertone of discomfort in her voice that neither of them can quite ignore.

Hmph," she snorts, not entirely sure how to feel about that. She knows what it's like to be in a situation where you need protecting but wish you could protect others instead. "Well, I suppose that makes sense." Her tone is curt, almost gruff as they jog through the woods side by side, their bodies moving in perfect sync despite their very different sizes and builds.

As she listens to him speak, however, something about what he's saying begins to strike a chord deep within her. It's like hearing an echo of her own past self, wanting nothing more than to protect the things she held dear but never quite managing it. The realization catches her off guard, leaving her feeling unsettled and... oddly connected to Nate in a way she can't explain.

"Well," she says finally, clearing her throat again as they reach their destination, "let's get back to work." With that, she turns her attention back to the field, preparing herself for whatever training exercise comes next.