Zorro decided to interrupt the practice session. Skittering down the hill, he dislodged a few pebbles. He swore softly to himself as they alerted his son before he would have liked.
Jaime's blade wobbled a little, but to Zorro's delight he kept it upright.
"Who…who are you?"
"Who do I look like, Senor?"
"What do you want?"
"You are trying to learn fencing," Zorro said. "Out here, all on your own, without a sword-master. It's a pity…it certainly is a pity."
"Why?"
"I see talent in you, little one." Jaime was bristled at his words.
"I would like to help."