Amalia
the shield of safrin
For a moment she hesitates in her explanation, feeling suddenly a little foolish. "I had a.... A vision. While praying to Vi." Running her thumb over the pommel, she doesn't look at Deimos. "My staff... It turned into a sword." She lets him draw his own conclusions, again not meeting his eyes. Their argument about his violent past remains close to the forefront of her mind.
He seems to offer no judgment, for which the Shield is grateful. Watching in careful silence Amalia turns her body and sets her feet, emulating his stance. It isn't so unlike using the staff, she thinks; watching keenly as he moves, she replicates the steps. This time her not-blade connects squarely to the dummy's shoulder, a blow that would bite into flesh were it on a man.
The thought is sobering. Turning black eyes up to Deimos, the girl bites her lip. "I want to incapacitate, not kill. To protect others and prevent death without causing it. Can you teach me to do that?"
He seems to offer no judgment, for which the Shield is grateful. Watching in careful silence Amalia turns her body and sets her feet, emulating his stance. It isn't so unlike using the staff, she thinks; watching keenly as he moves, she replicates the steps. This time her not-blade connects squarely to the dummy's shoulder, a blow that would bite into flesh were it on a man.
The thought is sobering. Turning black eyes up to Deimos, the girl bites her lip. "I want to incapacitate, not kill. To protect others and prevent death without causing it. Can you teach me to do that?"
everything that drowned me
taught me how to swim
taught me how to swim
