Fear is a Four Letter Word

Sadira was no slouch when it came to running. She ran every day back in Agrabah: from guards, angry merchants, you name it. So suffice it to say, she wasn't doing too bad with the laps. She had the speed and stamina to keep this up for as long as she needed to. Still, she quickly learned after five minutes that without someone chasing you, there simply wasn't much thrill in running. She wasn't the most competitive girl, so simply doing it to beat the others present wasn't the best motivation. Simply put, the streetrat was bored with running.

She kept at it, however, due in part to the repercussions she might face if she turned tail and ran out of there (Helga certainly didn't seem the type to let that slide), and in part because she figured the faster she ran, the quicker this part of the training would be over. She ran, keeping an even, quick pace at the head of the pack, looking forward to being nearly done. At least that WAS what she was doing until a short, portly creature ran past her and "accidentally" tripped her.

"Hey!" She exclaimed as she regained her footing. "Watch where you're going with that thing, you little creep!" She called to the retreating hellion. There was no way he hadn't done that on purpose. Were it not for her impressive agility she might have fallen flat on her face, and as it was he'd slowed her down enough to make her lose her spot. She thought, briefly, about exacting revenge by grabbing a pinch of the enchanted sand she kept in a bag tied to her waist to create some shackles and trip him up in return, but the stout little beast was surprisingly fast. Therefore, all she could do glower at his retreating form. She supposed she could have pointed out his foul play to Helga, but despite what people called her the girl was no rat. And aside from that, she doubted Helga would care.

She increased her speed, more than ready to finally be done with the exercise. By the time she reached the next stage, Hurken was struggling with the pushups. Now, while Sadira might have been good at running, she wasn't quite as familiar with traditional exercises, but she figured they couldn't be that hard. After all, she had upper body strength to spare, and either way she'd certainly fare better than the minion of evil currently was. Her hand flew to her mouth as she struggled to conceal her quiet laughs. It was almost enough to make up for his earlier shenanigans. Almost.

"Uh, Helga?" She called to their superior as she got in the beginning position to start her pushups. "I don't think pushups are the most practical exercise for some of the more, um, rotund soldiers present." The witch pointed out, as she did her first few pushups with ease, stopping briefly to flick bushy locks of hair out of her face. What she would give for a hair tie.

Truthfully, she didn't think his trouble with the exercise was because he was round. She imagined that, with a struggle, even good old Farouk might have been able to get at least one pushup in. But it looked like the girth of the little gremlin's belly outmatched the length of his arms. Perhaps there was some alternative Helga could give him, or maybe she'd just yell. Frankly, the witch didn't know herself if she'd pointed his struggle out to Helga with the intention to help or embarrass him. Whatever the outcome though, it felt like the better option than simply leaving him to his troubles.

Hurken was close enough to Sadira to hear her comment concerning his build. For a moment, his beady eyes narrowed as he wondered if she was heckling him. Either way he looked at it, whether she meant to make fun of his failure, or his build, she had to be making some sport at his expense since she was clearly able to perform as Helga expected. He couldn't help but approve. It was a rather gobliny think to do, and he found himself grinning. It seemed he'd be able to get along with at least some of the humans here after all.

As soon as she began speaking, his full attention turned to Helga, and he grimaced. Hadn't he been trying to do just that? But, as before, arguing was far from his mind. Since she demanded it of him, he would try again, and he his thick fingers to his helmet in a salute before hopping up onto his feet in a surprisingly agile maneuver that belied his rotund build and broad belly. For all his porcine shape and round body, he was far from flabby.

This time, he knew what to expect when he rolled forward, and, though he once again rolled forward as his belly took over from his legs in supporting his weight, his hands were spread wide enough to balance his bulky body. He peered at Sadira as best he could as she continued her push-ups, then did his best to copy her, somewhat ponderously lowering himself until his piggy snout brushed the ground, making him snort before he straightened his arms again. He repeated the motion several times, resembling an oddly shaped ball, or bizarre see-saw, more than anything else. But, despite that, it would be clear his problemw ith this exercise had nothing to do with his muscles.

Then, abruptly he sneezed as he accidentally inhaled some dirt his snout brushed against, and he lost his balance, rolling onto his back and coming to a rest as the spike on his helmet embedded itself into the ground, leaving him with a strangely relaxing view of the sky. It occurred to him that the struggle he'd undertaken to do push-ups certainly hadn't killed him, and it occurred to him that he'd done more than one. Exactly how many, he wasn't sure. But that wasn't important. Surely Helga knew goblins couldn't, as a general rule, count.

Then, abruptly tiring of thinking, he reached his hands to the ground, and gave a heave, righting himself, swaying briefly before gaining his balance and brushing the dirt from his helmet. He drew himself up, and offered Helga another salute. "It didn't kill me!" he announced, looking quite proud of himself.