Rane gave a sharp toothed grin at her 'no swords' rule. Hunt had given him the same one after an incident involving two training bots, three engineers and Thanondian who had lost his sense of sight. But the fact of the matter was that she was right, things tended to get 'messy' when the Sword of the Skyfather got involved.

"Whatever you say Nafi, I'm easy going like that. Though I've been known to tear tanks apart with my bare hands too, when the fancy takes me." He replied before vaulting into the ring. His nimble fingers went to the buckle on his baldric, the one that held the Sword in place. A simple clasp was all that held the weapon in place, seconds of work to undo, but Rane hesitated. He always hated to part with the blade, his gift from the Skyfather, even if it was only for a heartbeat. The universe just didn't seem right without the cold metal close to him, comforting him through his fears and guiding him through his trials. He began to get possessive, then suspicious. [b]What if Nafi only wanted him to take the Skyfather's gift off so she could steal it herself. Or what if Mylik wanted it, who could he stop him, he was bloody invisible.[I] I wont give it up, not without a fight! Come at me fuckers, I'll turn this room red with your blood, and when I'm done with you everyone will know that the sword is mi. . . .[/I][/b]

The clasp clicked open and the sword fell to the ground, hitting the ring floor like an anvil. Heavier than you look though Rane, and he should know, he'd been carrying that weight for what seemed like an eternity. It was an immense burden, being the Skyfather's champion, carrying his sword and leading his hunts. Often were the times that Rane felt he was going to be swallowed up by the immensity of the fact, of being crushed under all that responsibility. It felt good just to get away from it, even if only for a little while. The Canmorian took a second to himself, to reflect on who he had become since being cursed with the sword, and mourn who he might have been if he had never received it before picking the blade and its sheathe back up and hanging it from the ring corner post. 

He felt like he had gone ten rounds already, and he hadn't even thrown a punch yet. He always felt like this after relinquishing the sword, like somehow the weapon nurtured and provided for him, and when he let it go all that extra power disappeared into the wind. He felt tired, but it was a good kinda tired, like the sort you get after going for a long, relaxing run. [i]To be honest, I feel free. Like the Skyfather's mission ain't quite so important anymore, like I can just be Rane again. No voices in my head, no bright colours plastered across the walls, nothing except me and my thoughts. [/I]

He lent up against the inside of the ring rope again, his shoulders sagging a little as he waited for Nafi to join him, just enjoying the peace..