MORGAN
Morgan had been expecting the man to pull out something far more substantial than the set of throwing knives; her surprise was clear on her face, as well as her doubt that he would even manage to penetrate the ice with them. Flesh was one thing, but the ice pillars were hard and unforgiving, not made for roguish weapons.
As suspected, the knife hit the pillar, made a dent, then bounced right off. With a scoff Morgan bent down to pick it up and pass it back, melting the ice pillars around them as she did. "You would be better suited to try and fight me, with those. A target far more yielding." With that said she took some steps back, held up her hammer and nodded to him, waiting to see if he would throw.
The measure of a man
Stands or falls with what he leaves behind
