Noah chuckled, a quiet, disarming sound that did little to ease the tension in the air.
"I didn't want to let my skills grow rusty during the holidays," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
Professor Cecilia stood before him, her arms folded tightly over her chest, golden eyes narrowing in disbelief.
The faint shimmer of phoenix fire that always seemed to shroud her flickered as though reacting to her restrained irritation.
"Rusty," she repeated flatly. "You call breaking your ribs and nearly draining your mana pool rusty?"
"Do you want another case of mana fatigue? So soon after your last one?"
She leaned forward. "Be honest with me, Noah. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Noah tried to hold her gaze but found himself glancing aside under the weight of it. "I don't have the luxury of sitting back and relaxing like everyone else, professor."
