Waen makes a face at the suggestion, like she's said something uncomfortably crude.

"On the property?" He asks, a bit aghast. "Don't fight on the property, bound to break things."

He jerks his head to the side to gesture to the wide space of the slightly snowy street out away from the front wall of the smithy. He's not here to break windows or shutters on accident, he's here to punch and be punched.

"There's better," he decrees and steps out of the way to let her go first.