Seraphina
the artificer
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet
and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
Oh but she manages it, his praise and the posture she has him in has her unable to keep the grin from forming. She makes a note of what he tells her regarding shoulders, but doesn’t move to follow up. She’s already got him, much to her surprise, and she releases him with the easy pat on her arm. He breaks away and she stands relatively still, stretching out her wrists as she watches him, takes in the information he gives her, gives into the practicing until she’s breathing a bit heavier than normal, until a bit of sweat gleams along her temples.
But she is strong. Not in the way of fighting, but in building, in having to move heavy objects by hand, having to lift and pull and drag. Perhaps she’s better at this than she’s anticipated… until of course he’s asking her to tackle him. Brown eyes watch him with suspicion, the size difference between them, and how she imagines it might feel tackling a boulder (ie, a challenge).
But she takes a deep breath, shakes her head, dark hair dancing around her face. “This is going to go quite poorly, you know.” She informs him, quite matter of factly, before she’s loosened up while she thinks of the ways people had practiced here before as she’s walked past. So she decides to try it out; turning so she can launch herself at him from his side, hoping to somehow manage to wrap her legs around his middle, to wrap her arms around his neck, hopefully throwing him off balance to bring him to the ground with the way she’s swung herself.
But she is strong. Not in the way of fighting, but in building, in having to move heavy objects by hand, having to lift and pull and drag. Perhaps she’s better at this than she’s anticipated… until of course he’s asking her to tackle him. Brown eyes watch him with suspicion, the size difference between them, and how she imagines it might feel tackling a boulder (ie, a challenge).
But she takes a deep breath, shakes her head, dark hair dancing around her face. “This is going to go quite poorly, you know.” She informs him, quite matter of factly, before she’s loosened up while she thinks of the ways people had practiced here before as she’s walked past. So she decides to try it out; turning so she can launch herself at him from his side, hoping to somehow manage to wrap her legs around his middle, to wrap her arms around his neck, hopefully throwing him off balance to bring him to the ground with the way she’s swung herself.
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night?
the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
