Thalassa
Too intoxicated to be scared
Danta's sympathies are accepted with a quiet nod, eager to move away from the topic and all the pain that comes with it. She finds it easier when he leans into the banter, the grin taking a little less energy to force onto her lips. "I guess we'll have to see." The smile doesn't hint at the doubts she has, the belief that she won't stand a chance in her current state.
But none of that matters as he's suddenly right in front of her, his fist inches from her face. She can barely form an instinctual thought of defense before she's darting to his side. Her breath catches, clearing her thoughts enough that she can focus on the fight unfurling. The joy or excitement that she usually wears is nowhere to be seen, just a quiet concentration as she twists her hips to throw a fist at his flank, letting the physical exertion drown out her pains.
1/4
But none of that matters as he's suddenly right in front of her, his fist inches from her face. She can barely form an instinctual thought of defense before she's darting to his side. Her breath catches, clearing her thoughts enough that she can focus on the fight unfurling. The joy or excitement that she usually wears is nowhere to be seen, just a quiet concentration as she twists her hips to throw a fist at his flank, letting the physical exertion drown out her pains.
1/4
