"And yet, there is an athleticism it requires that I do not seem to possess," Ichabod muses, watching as the other team throws and knocks his guard away. He hadn't forseen that particular outcome and thinks next time he will have to be at least two or three steps ahead. He is a fair strategist, yes, but executing it may be another thing entirely.

"Are you some sort of surgeon, then, to use scalpels?"