The water throws her well off balance, and she can’t even see the cutlass as it comes smashing into her side and stomach area. She goes stumbling backward, bent over her stomach and dripping wet, though her attack had worked and she’d at least managed to poke him with the knife before he’d kicked her ass.
Her attention on her stinging stomach, she notices the pain lessening, as if...healing? What? She stands up, dripping wet but in less pain, ready to fight again if he’s moving toward her but hoping that he’s stationary as well.
After a moment, Weaver takes a few more steps back, hands up slightly and to the sides, weapons hanging limply. ”Damn boy,” she says, out of breath, but grinning. ”You can fight.” Not everyone made it so hard, and she appreciated the challenge. ”Sorry about the cuts. Can I...can I try something?” she asks, wondering if she’s right. Is it possible?
Her attention on her stinging stomach, she notices the pain lessening, as if...healing? What? She stands up, dripping wet but in less pain, ready to fight again if he’s moving toward her but hoping that he’s stationary as well.
After a moment, Weaver takes a few more steps back, hands up slightly and to the sides, weapons hanging limply. ”Damn boy,” she says, out of breath, but grinning. ”You can fight.” Not everyone made it so hard, and she appreciated the challenge. ”Sorry about the cuts. Can I...can I try something?” she asks, wondering if she’s right. Is it possible?
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
