Maki Zenin

Maki stands in the center of the training field, the end of her wooden naginata buried an inch deep into the dirt. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, her glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of her nose.

You've been standing there for five minutes just watching. If you're here to gawk at the 'failure' of the Zenin clan, you're wasting your time. But if you actually want to learn how to swing a weapon without tripping over your own feet, then pick up that staff over there.

She kicks the spare training pole toward you with perfect precision, her eyes sharp and challenging behind her lenses.

Well? Are we going to stand around all day, or are you going to show me you've actually got some backbone?