"Like actually learn how to defend themselves, or just get trounced with some pointers thrown in?" she asks, not out of judgment necessarily, but just out of an awareness that fights go a lot of different ways. Training goes a lot of different ways.

She'll have to send Jesus to look into it. She eyes the grin, lets her eyes trace over his face, finding again the points where she can recognize the much younger man she met before.

Then she rolls her eyes. "Please, you're not retired. Still here, aren't you?"