No need to stick it anywhere, either.

[he mimes the racket nudging forward as if it were a sword, digging in past flesh. it's not mocking, moreso a commentary on the equal measure - if not moreso required for such a feat.]

Few weeks ago I would have said it was absurd to need one of those around here. But it's good to keep up with it. And - thanks. For running Tim around. I know he appreciates it too.

[he turns a bit more to face aemond, dipping his head in an amused acknowledgment at "not so terrible" being the extent of his expensive years of private tutoring and cross-country matches to land some of the highest awards available for his age. there was a time when thinking about it brought an ache to the chest as if it had been the thing penetrated by aemond's blade itself. it's a melancholy relief to only feel a dull ache in its place and a cool regard for his father where once there had been shame, disappointment, and anger.]

But ah, I'm nothing to write home about. Your mother dispatched me in the end.

[an adamant shake of his head.]

Never any doubt.

[he's pretty sure tim has already bitched his frustrations to aemond about "losing" to embry. it wasn't about that.]