Evie
One man's hell is another's God
Evie nods her head, too focused on training and feeling the weight of her weapon to waste any time on words. Tucking it away for her next strike all the same; though of course as she goes to yank it backwards, Wessex’s retaliation is to tangle her claws in the rope. Evie’s voice leaps to her throat and sticks there, intending to warn the woman of the backward-curved addition on the blade - meant for exactly this, and for use as a grappling hook - but she has already yanked back hard on the rope and there’s no time for warning.
Luckily it catches on the claws instead, resistance ringing up Evie’s arm from the now-taut line. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, she focuses instead on her weapon; telekinesis reaching forth to encourage the blade and handle upward off the claw before yanking on it again to try and recall it to her side.
Luckily it catches on the claws instead, resistance ringing up Evie’s arm from the now-taut line. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, she focuses instead on her weapon; telekinesis reaching forth to encourage the blade and handle upward off the claw before yanking on it again to try and recall it to her side.
It's all about perspective, a parallax
