"Lack of livable life here," he says, rolling his eyes. "No yeast, but what's wild I've been told. They're working on it, but it has yet to appear," he laments, the pain loud and clear in his voice.

Jacob is quite a moment though at that offer, not looking nearly as amused. "As amazing as you are with a blade, dear sister, I suspect trying to take on this particular person in such a way might well end in your pain. You are good. He is perhaps better," he admits, giving her a pointed look because there are so very few whom he might consider better than either of them, and what training that would take.