[Training] makes me that much stronger

WESSEX out of the night that covers me He is, indeed, stronger than Wessex. But at eight inches taller and built like a tank, he should be. Anything else would be well worth her seemingly endless font of mockery. A slight upward tilt at the corners of her mouth indicate approval for his determination to try again. Giving up is for the birds unless there’s no other option, unless what remains is death, destruction, or the knowledge that you can attempt again tomorrow and have given it your all today. He has, however, destroyed the sack - or target - poked it full of holes so that the stuffing - or straw, flour, dirt, whatever - comes leaking out. “It does. You'll be a fighter yet. Also means you owe Ronin a new dummy,” which she says with a sharp chuckle. “How did you get so strong, Are? Surely making shoes isn’t like working a smithy.” Wessex tosses her weapons aside and moves to an empty area, giving a look that says come at me, bro and a little hand beckoning movement that indicates they’re not done yet. She settles down into a ready crouch, ready to test her speed against his brawn. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul