Temeraire himself has been in his share of odd scraps--impossible not to, growing up as a schoolboy in a rural village--but nothing quite like what Warsman is describing. His smile widens despite himself, the words tugging at some indefinable, distant part of him.

"Well, it is a great pity you have stopped," he says after a moment, eyes shining a little. "All the more because I will not be able to see you fight in the ring. But--"

He pauses, clearly trying to work through the words in his mind, before he blurts out, "Do you think you might--teach me a little, sometime? The basics?"