"Get your nose out of that book and fight me, Athis!"
The Dunmer sighed, but did not look up, his sharp eyes intent on the words scrawled onto the pages before him. He was not eager to be goaded into another fight; he was still sore from their most recent encounter. It was redundant to consistently be nursing bruises and broken bones. He continued reading for some time, with no more interruptions, which was surprising. As he was studying a particularly difficult section in the book, he became aware of a persistent scratching noise, which he attempted to disregard, with little success. When he could stand it no longer, he shut his book with a thud, and raised his eyes to see Njada scraping away at one of the training dummies with a shard of charcoal.
He lay the book on the table and approached the training field, irritated by the interruption. "What on Tamriel are you doing, Njada?" he asked, the tone of his voice betraying his displeasure. She did not acknowledge him, but continued scratching at the dummy, much to Athis' growing frustration. Several excruciating minutes passed before she stepped aside to reveal her handiwork. She had written his name across the painted target, and scribbled on a crude face to represent her fellow Companion. She smiled smugly at him, hands on hips, her eyes alight with amusement.
"What's this supposed to mean?" he demanded, gesturing angrily at the straw mannequin.
"It means you're a dummy, dummy."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard! Fight me, dummy!"
Athis lunged at her in a fit of rage, only to grasp at empty air as she dodge nimbly to the side. "Come on, you can do better than that!"
He growled, throwing a punch, which was blocked by Njada's leather bracer. "Hit me!" she cried, dodging another of his blows. He advanced, and she gave ground, luring him into the mead hall, where she knew there would be an audience.
Almost immediately, the other Companions had gathered in a circle around the two, calling bets, insults, and encouragement in equal measure. Njada did not yield before Athis' barrage of attacks, calmly blocking and dodging as he threw each punch, biding her time, waiting for him to tire before she switched to the offensive. Just as she was convinced he could not hold out much longer, he feinted to the right, but his left hand came around fast and hard, his fist connecting with her jaw, producing a loud crack, and causing her to stagger back a few steps. She grinned. "Now it's a real fight!"