One of the Men

[Thor]

After returning to his own sparing match for its completion, Grayson stepped back and watched all the rest finish. Once the last recruit admitted defeat he called for lunch. The eight men marched to the mess hall. Thor and Red-Hood sat down at there usual table. The other five sat at theirs. Grayson walked in between the two, then stopped. He looked at the two primes, then at the five men. "Ok, I guess I didn't notice this when that other kid was around but this," he motioned at the two tables, "this needs to stop. All of you get up."

Thor chugged his drink and stood. Red got up with a moan, still exhausted from the night before and lamenting having to move during his break from training. The other men also stood. Grayson looked at the two tables. "Alright, Thor and Red, you move that table." He looked at the other men. "Micheal, Grant, Gared. You three move that table. Just push them together." He said stepping out of the way.

Thor watched his friend stumble toward the table. Thor grabbed his friend. "Let me, my friend. The tables in Asgard were made of heavier wood than this and they were booted with solid iron, but we still managed to throw them at each other." Thor smiled and took hold of the table. Thor watched the other men take hold of the other table. Grant and Gared were tall but Micheal was the real brute. They started to move the tables together.

Grayson looked at the tables, now joined. "Alright. You all will sit here, together!"

They sat at the table together. The men stared at the to primes with an awkward mix of suspicion and awe. Red was too tired to make any snarky comments and Thor, not finding the table a friendly audience, turned his attention to the serving maids. They finished their meal and the rest of their training without incident. However, upon returning to their room the two primes found a bored guardsman with an interesting sword waiting outside their room. "I'm here to escort you to your new room."