Where the Reed Fern Grows

'Everything.', he said, his eyes suddenly lighting up from inside. He loved talking about sports, especially those he knew personaly from training them. And that was quite a lot.

'I used to take everything that peacked my interest.', he said, waving his hand through the air. 'Swimming, football, basketball, you name it.', he said, smiling. 'Martial arts too. Everything you name I have probably trained for at least some time. I used to take them long enough to establish a basic skill before moving on to something else completely different in order to try as many things as posibly. And taking two completely different things one after another always used to be real challange. I used to love that.', he said, sighing a bit sadly over a distant memory. 'Then something happened and I stopped, but I tought I could continue here, but there was no sports club... So I started one. I'm just waiting for people to sing up and the season to start and all.' The rumor was suddenly long forgotten as he continued talking on and on about one sport or another, even though there was a lot more things he wanted to say, about himself, and about others. However, sports presented themselves as far more important, and not to mention apropriate, issue to discus in public places.

'.. and so I got to train that for six months...'

'Yeah, well', he said, a tad awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'It's different when there is something to talk about.', he says, almost looking away. 'And where is someone to listne, too. I mean, most people would've stopped me ages ago.', he laughes quietly under his breath, shaking his head, loose strands of hair flying everywhere and covering his eyes. He looks up through them, fire still in his eyes, thankfully not the one that comes from anger.

'It's amazing you didn't get bored. I mean, even my...', he stops, frowning, before scoffing and continuing. 'I have yet to meet a person beside you who can listen through all that.'

'Well, it's still not to late.', he said, this time really loking away. 'Perhaps you could come by the club? I'll find you something to do.', he added, smiling, getting all fired up again. 'You would be good at badminton, perhaps. Or tennis. Or would you like to learn how to fight?', he turned around, eyeing her up from head to do. 'Hm...', he said, losing himself in his own world of which-sport-could-Trinni-play. 'And off he goes.', Spirit commented, looking at his eyes. 'Do you mind opening that for me?', he nuzeled at the second can of soda.

'For soda? Always.', Spirit replied, opening his mouth.

'For soda and just about anything else he can eat, drink, or simply swalow.', William said,coming back to his senses at the sight, before looking at Trinni again. 'Yeah, you could, if I take into account that you are a gril who hadn't trained anything so far. Some of the things I do are no joke, you can get hurt if you make even the smallest mistake.', he said, frowning, completely forgetting that he was yet to find out what Trinni can do, and why Spirit kept calling her kitty-cat.

'Oh?', he said, raising an eyebrow before giving her a smug smile. 'It's one.', he extended his hand, offering it to her in a handshake. 'I bet that by the first time you come by the club I'll have come up with something wickedly insane that you couldn't possibly do. Agree?'

Spirit, who knew perfectly well what Trini could do, did nothing, as he observed amused, knowing that William's probably in for a big embarrassment, and even bigger surprise.