& if you never bleed you're never gonna grow
Flora watches the first attempt with an easy patience, arms folded, the crooked grin never slipping into anything sharp. The shimmer of the dagger returning to Theea’s hand earns a little tilt of her head, bracelets chiming as she shifts her weight to one hip. "Honestly? You’re doing great," she says, voice light but firm enough to carry weight. "If that palm was an actual attacker, they’d already be dead six times over. So don’t tear yourself up about it."
She twirls her own blade lazily, feathers glinting as they catch what little sun filters through the shifting skies. "Accuracy takes time. With something like these—" she flips the dagger once, catching it by the hilt again, "—you want to think smaller, not harder. Don’t just throw at the tree, throw at a point. Narrow your focus until there’s only the tiniest mark you’re aiming for. And when you release, it should feel like the blade is an extension of your hand—smooth, one motion, no hitch."
She shifts her stance beside Theea, rolling her shoulders back, weight balanced and loose. For a moment her gaze sharpens, zeroing in on a knot in the palm’s bark, no bigger than a coin. Then she flicks the dagger forward in one fluid line. It spins quick and true, burying itself dead-centre in the knot with a clean, satisfying thunk. The feathers quiver once, then settle, perfectly straight.
Glancing sidelong at Theea, Flora’s grin widens, sly and encouraging all at once. "See? You don’t need to conquer the whole tree. Just one tiny spot at a time."
2/4
She twirls her own blade lazily, feathers glinting as they catch what little sun filters through the shifting skies. "Accuracy takes time. With something like these—" she flips the dagger once, catching it by the hilt again, "—you want to think smaller, not harder. Don’t just throw at the tree, throw at a point. Narrow your focus until there’s only the tiniest mark you’re aiming for. And when you release, it should feel like the blade is an extension of your hand—smooth, one motion, no hitch."
She shifts her stance beside Theea, rolling her shoulders back, weight balanced and loose. For a moment her gaze sharpens, zeroing in on a knot in the palm’s bark, no bigger than a coin. Then she flicks the dagger forward in one fluid line. It spins quick and true, burying itself dead-centre in the knot with a clean, satisfying thunk. The feathers quiver once, then settle, perfectly straight.
Glancing sidelong at Theea, Flora’s grin widens, sly and encouraging all at once. "See? You don’t need to conquer the whole tree. Just one tiny spot at a time."
2/4
