"Well, I don't think I'd be thinking about dancing in the heat of battle." Luka huffs, reaching a hand up to ask for assistance and finding that one is already there. Convenient! He pulls himself to his feet and starts brushing the wet sand off of himself... again.

"How can I be less predictable?" He asks with a sudden serious determination in his voice. If things were to come to a head with the Protector, the least he could to is avoid getting stabbed. "Can you show me how to put my body into my swings?"