Remael calmed himself down as he picked both apples and peaches from the grove and placing them in a small sack. He rememberd helping his mentor pick fruits from this very same tree years back and he paused, thinking about it. This place had been built to train, but real violence was always avoided, and for a good reason. Anger should never be expressed through actions, only through words, that is what his mentor had taught him, ironic since the latter was unavailable to Remael. Forced to use actions, he made sure they were p*censored*ive ones, making sure to never hurt others. With a sigh, he tied the bag up and turned around, walking back toward his hut.