[The barked order strikes a deep chord in Kratos, even one long unused. He snaps to, following through before he can think. His movement is fluid from long practice, loose on the movement and hard at end; but there's something that feels alien about it. Perhaps it's just the movement, after so long without. Perhaps it's just the catch in his mana. It feels like a muscle tightened overnight.

[Yuan doesn't stop, and Kratos doesn't either, with that lead to follow. Upper block with shield-arm, forward thrust, ninety-degree backslash, lower sword block followed promptly by an upper shield-block -- it's easy, as long as he doesn't think. He doesn't dare end it, but he doesn't have to. His patterns flow into each other, shifting only in style, and it keeps his mind blissfully blank.

[He doesn't focus on his mana, yet. He doesn't want to stall again. And even though he can feel something off in his movements, the familiarity settles in and becomes soothing. When he reaches the end of the pattern, without thinking, he starts it over again, his eyes unconsciously shut. He might need a reminder to breathe, to not just go through the motions but engage with his body.]