Training is an important part of Gannicus's day - it separated the long evenings of drinking from the long mornings of being hungover. And he's got his work cut out for him: there are so many weapons here from beyond his time, so many skills yet to learn. The gulf between the arenas of his own time and the arenas he has been thrown in to lately has been difficult to cross. But training, learning, absorbing all he can from the strangers and aliens he is forced to call allies - this is his strategy now. This is how he spends his days.

Today it's rock climbing. He's been fighting his way up a wall of shifting pegs and moving blocks all morning and working up enough of a sweat that he's had to roughly tie his hair back in a low ponytail. In a pause between sets he wanders to get a cone of water, bringing him close enough for the blonde at the sandbag to catch his eye.

Gannicus watches work the bag for a few long moments then says:

"You possess good form." He grins appreciatively at her, nodding at the bag. "Should you wish to try your hand against real flesh, I would volunteer my services."