I was painting a picture // The picture was a painting of you and
For a moment I thought you were here
For a moment I thought you were here
Deimos was a good teacher. Encouraging, strong, and patient. He took the time to guide her through the motions. Each movement was new to her, but she took them all in stride. If only because he was willing to give her the space to work through her thoughts and actions without any real danger. Cordelia took the opportunity, brows knitting together as he posed his question and made his strike, catching her off guard. The Attuned faltered, flinching away from the blow, but still bringing her own training blade up in an underhanded swing in an attempt to push his blade away.
It connected, but there wasn’t as much strength behind this one, but she pushed anyway. Both hands wrapped around the hilt of her blade and she shoved hard. Her steps stumbled as she put space between them, chest heaving as she caught her breath on the crisp air, ”Not the cleanest, but not too bad, huh?”
It connected, but there wasn’t as much strength behind this one, but she pushed anyway. Both hands wrapped around the hilt of her blade and she shoved hard. Her steps stumbled as she put space between them, chest heaving as she caught her breath on the crisp air, ”Not the cleanest, but not too bad, huh?”
But then again, it wasn't true
CORDELIA
