To Thor, it feels almost like a dance where he's forgotten a step here and there, comfortable and familiar until he stumbles off-rhythm. But that does little to lessen his enjoyment, and even when she strikes him hard enough to leave bruises, it doesn't stop him from grinning at a successful parry, or laughing when he manages to strike her in turn. It feels like home, golden and glorious and nostalgic, and for long moments at a time he can almost forget the roads that led them here and simply embrace the thrill of the fight.

After they've gotten almost too comfortable with the give-and-take of their spar, the added challenge of dual blades is a welcome one, and Thor idly wonders if it's muscle memory that guided her hand or if she'd discovered that her sword could do that by accident, but in the end it doesn't matter. "If you'll let me match you, then gladly," he calls back to her, already mentally decided on his second weapon before he even grabs it. None of his tiny armory matches, so he decides to mix things up even more by choosing a sturdy hand-axe, its curved blade possibly useful in disarming her of her blades, or vice versa if she remembers enough of her drills.