Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
Catalina nodded, determination clear in her eyes as she adjusted her grip on the staff. She took a deep breath and stepped toward the target, her hands still a bit unsure on the weight and balance. The staff wobbled in her grasp as she made her first awkward swipe, the end of it swinging a little too wide.
"Whoa—okay, that’s heavier than I expected," she muttered under her breath with a nervous laugh, nearly losing her footing as she tried another strike. Her movements resembled a baby deer on ice, just as she had joked earlier, her strikes clumsy and lacking precision. The staff felt like a burden in her hands as she tried to follow the Sword’s examples.
After a few more fumbled swings, Catalina paused, adjusting her stance and grip. She took a moment to feel the weight of the staff properly this time, letting her body settle into the motion instead of forcing it.
"Okay, okay, let’s try this again," she said to herself, her brow furrowed in concentration.
With a deep breath, she tried again, this time moving slower, letting the momentum of the staff guide her. The next swing, aimed at the target’s ribs, was more controlled, her arms finding their rhythm. The weight of the staff no longer felt so awkward; instead, she began to flow with it, each strike becoming more natural as she adapted to its heaviness. Each attack was simple, exhibiting that of a new trainee.
She smiled, the clumsiness fading away as she performed a few more swipes, each one smoother than the last.
"There we go," she said, more to herself than anyone, the excitement returning to her voice. "I think I’m starting to get the hang of this!" She swung at the target’s side of the head where the temple would be, the staff landing with a satisfying thud.
"Whoa—okay, that’s heavier than I expected," she muttered under her breath with a nervous laugh, nearly losing her footing as she tried another strike. Her movements resembled a baby deer on ice, just as she had joked earlier, her strikes clumsy and lacking precision. The staff felt like a burden in her hands as she tried to follow the Sword’s examples.
After a few more fumbled swings, Catalina paused, adjusting her stance and grip. She took a moment to feel the weight of the staff properly this time, letting her body settle into the motion instead of forcing it.
"Okay, okay, let’s try this again," she said to herself, her brow furrowed in concentration.
With a deep breath, she tried again, this time moving slower, letting the momentum of the staff guide her. The next swing, aimed at the target’s ribs, was more controlled, her arms finding their rhythm. The weight of the staff no longer felt so awkward; instead, she began to flow with it, each strike becoming more natural as she adapted to its heaviness. Each attack was simple, exhibiting that of a new trainee.
She smiled, the clumsiness fading away as she performed a few more swipes, each one smoother than the last.
"There we go," she said, more to herself than anyone, the excitement returning to her voice. "I think I’m starting to get the hang of this!" She swung at the target’s side of the head where the temple would be, the staff landing with a satisfying thud.
Catalina
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath
But you'll always follow the voices beneath
