Evander could imagine the dummy as a monster or enemy. It was his total focus. He measured his breathing and swung again. Oblivious to the world, he counted each step. The beat of each hit was just like a fast run, the muscles burning and the mind emptying. Autopilot. Reflex. It was a moment of peace, of clarity, when all the noise in his mind was silenced, and the only thing that mattered was the crashing of bronze on it's target.
When the dummy finally succumbed to the barrage, Evander stopped. Every muscle ached, and he was drenched in sweat. He set his hoplon down on a nearby bench, and then placed his sword down on the bench. Evander removed his helmet, then undid his chest plate to pull it off. It felt like it was suctioned on, and made a sound like a jar opening when he got it off. His orange T-shirt was completely drenched, but he pulled it off and used it to towel off his head as he sat down panting.
As he sat he became more aware of his surroundings again. The sound of birds and campers in the distance, and the sound of someone much closer. He straightened up, looking around. "Who goes there?"