His eyebrows go up at her difficulty coming up with a comparison, but he tries to smooth it over with a nod. He considers, briefly, the out she offers him. It's true that he doesn't usually spend much time on training novices: only the finest amongst Camelot are considered for the knights, their training meant to further hone their skills. And truth be told, he's never taught a woman. Morgana used to spar with him once, a long time ago, as they learned the basics; Gwen, a blacksmith's daughter, learned whatever she knows at home. No woman has ever tried to join the knights, and he couldn't say he'd know what he'd do if one did. The idea hadn't even crossed his mind before arriving here.

But this is a war, and they can clearly use every body they've got. The stakes are far bigger, but the circumstances remind him a little of Ealdor once. Gwen had said the women have as much right to fight for their lives as the men do! and she'd been right (she always is right).

He shakes his head and straightens, picking up his sword, and gestures that they move towards the armory.

"Every swordsman..." Hang on. "And swordswoman...began a novice. Having a well-balanced sword, suitable for its wielder, is the start to winning any battle. A poor weapon can jeopardize anyone's chances, no matter how well-trained they are."