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 felt her breath steady, the weight of the staff grounding her as she listened to his advice. His words made sense—predicting an opponent’s moves was a skill she hoped to master. The thought of it, of understanding the dance of combat, intrigued her, even as it intimidated her. She gave him a determined nod in response, eyes focused. He spoke the truth. That much was for certain.
Catalina watched his movements closely, her grip tightening around the staff as he warned her about the increase in speed. She braced herself, focusing on what she'd just learned. Anticipate. React. But as soon as he moved, she realized how much faster he was. His staff came sweeping toward her left side, aiming for her shoulder.
She tried to pivot in time, but her response was too slow. The force of his staff collided with hers, knocking it off balance, and she felt the sting as it grazed her shoulder. Her grip faltered, and she stumbled back, struggling to recover. She didn't have the proper footing or the right handling against blocking that attack.
Wincing and biting back a laugh at her own mistake. "Guess I wasn't ready for that like I should had been....." She rubbed her shoulder, grinning despite the failure. She wasn't disheartened in the least, actually... it did quiet the opposite to her. She felt even more determined. Readying once more, she felt her hands slide down the staff, her knuckles not whitening this time from the grasp. She aimed for a fluid movement, like the rivers that carved through the land.
Catalina watched his movements closely, her grip tightening around the staff as he warned her about the increase in speed. She braced herself, focusing on what she'd just learned. Anticipate. React. But as soon as he moved, she realized how much faster he was. His staff came sweeping toward her left side, aiming for her shoulder.
She tried to pivot in time, but her response was too slow. The force of his staff collided with hers, knocking it off balance, and she felt the sting as it grazed her shoulder. Her grip faltered, and she stumbled back, struggling to recover. She didn't have the proper footing or the right handling against blocking that attack.
Wincing and biting back a laugh at her own mistake. "Guess I wasn't ready for that like I should had been....." She rubbed her shoulder, grinning despite the failure. She wasn't disheartened in the least, actually... it did quiet the opposite to her. She felt even more determined. Readying once more, she felt her hands slide down the staff, her knuckles not whitening this time from the grasp. She aimed for a fluid movement, like the rivers that carved through the land.
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
