Thalassa
I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.
She'd meant to control her strike enough to prevent bloodshed, but the fire makes it hard to gauge her distance, and she feels as his skin gives way beneath her blade. The obsidian dagger bursts into flames, indicating her successful hit, although she doesn't feel the usual sense of victory. Wanting to pit her skills against a friend doesn't mean she has any intention of actually hurting them. Thal is vividly reminded of all the times she'd unintentionally injured Hadama, guilt welling in her chest.
There isn't much time to wallow as Asta narrows in his focus, a downward trajectory of his whip rushing for her. Thal drops to a roll, attempting to make it past to swipe out her leg against his. If she hits, she doubts it'll be hard enough to drop him (although that would be quite a feat). In her movement, she notes the sticky warmth of blood on her forearm, faintly aware that she hadn't fully dodged the blades of his weapon.
There isn't much time to wallow as Asta narrows in his focus, a downward trajectory of his whip rushing for her. Thal drops to a roll, attempting to make it past to swipe out her leg against his. If she hits, she doubts it'll be hard enough to drop him (although that would be quite a feat). In her movement, she notes the sticky warmth of blood on her forearm, faintly aware that she hadn't fully dodged the blades of his weapon.
But nothing lasts. I know the deal.
