[Training] Fight or flight with my past

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

She'd written him once the season broke, because busy as she is, she needs to carve out time to improve herself. After having her ass handed to her by several fierce women of late, safe to say Colt's ego is a little bruised when it comes to holding her own in a fight. Not that any of the losses had surprised her, she's green about most forms of combat, but it expecting something to be shitty doesn't change how terrible it is to swallow it.

She could probably finetune herself around town, but getting back to the bruised ego, she'd rather not give anyone she regularly sees any more fuel to work with. Deimos had impressed her early on, and whether he likes the comparison or not, he still reminds her of her own father, the main teacher of her life. Needing the comfort right now, she asked for his help, relenting to the idea at last that she needs it, and needs to do more than just fumble through the steps.

She sinks into mud, shockingly, as she dismounts in the jungle. She'd begged him for somewhere less distant than his home, and less cold. She'd just got done freezing her ass off all season, she doesn't have much inclination to do any more of it so soon. Though, jungles haven't treated her too well either, but at least she can feel her toes and her ears here.

Pulling off the bow and quiver from the horse, she puts both around her back. She figured she'd ease into it, start with something she knows, rather than wielding knives and pencils like she's got a clue. Slipping the bridle off the mare, she ties the halter lead to a nearby tree, leaving her loose enough to graze as Colt steps towards the designated meeting point, unsure who made it here first.

Colt

Deimos

Deimos had been surprised to find Colt’s letter in the pile of mail after LongNight, but didn’t mention the consternation in his response. And despite his dedication to his region, he knew it’d be a healthy sentiment to leave every once in a while – even if the weather outside the cold, icy convictions seemed a bit worse for wear.

He’d flown over the clouds for a long time, eyeing the massive, gray, expanded billowing masses with his own brand of machinations, but eventually to reach the Oerwoud, he had to drop lower and lower, and feathers became immediately soaked. More than once he unfurled the plumage and shook, not unlike a dog, before soon drifting closer and closer to canopies, reaching the designated location within the wild sanctions.

Shifting as soon as he touched the ground, he opted to unfurl his elemental prowess and shift the water droplets around and away from him as he approached the Accepted, greeting on his low, residual rumble. “Colt,” head tilting, he glanced at the weapons, already figuring the bow and arrow would be the tantamount armament on her agenda. “How did your LongNight go?”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

The shift of the leafy canopy and a shadow wheeling suddenly overhead draws her attention up instead of just poking through the foliage. He had told her about his shifts, it should come as no surprise he'd flown here on his own, though she managed to be delighted by it all the same. Knowing about his shifts is not the same as seeing them in action, and it's all less than having any to call on. She assumed he might take a skyship like anyone else, then walk here as others are prone to do.

So it is she turns towards him, beaming with the private delight and envy of his freedoms at his disposal and the easy way he sheds the annoyance of the weather, she greets him with a wave. "Deimos! How was the flight over? Storming everywhere as bad as it has been here?" She gestures with a hand around them, mud flecking her pants and her horse's legs, a constant companion as of late.

His own question however, is met with a dimming to her familiar glow, though she tries to recover it with a practiced smile and a wave of her hand. "Oh, you know, darkness and lanterns, the usual. I'd rather be bored than excited by tragedy." Though, truthfully, her LongNight had been more eventful than most, what with a visit from Vesper and two field trips, but she didn't think Deimos wanted a recounting of her sex life or her errands. "You?"

Colt

Deimos

Colt seemed unchanged despite the seasonal shifts; amused, he gave a grin, then a shrug. “Not terrible. I flew over most of the clouds until I had to land.” But the stretch of the weather had been decidedly doused, and he could only imagine how her own home and ranch looked like at present. “How did King’s End fare?” He’d have to make his way over eventually, but for now, there were other motives and ambitions.

Her words about LongNight left his brow arched, and then he filtered away most of the age-old tragedies of the past. It was easier now to pretend that the expansive and endless evenings in the Grounds, all those years ago, hadn’t affected him. Didn’t make it true – the trepidation ever present, despite being miles and regions and multitudes of time away from the traumatic experiences. “Agreed. It was quiet. I will not complain about that.” They could celebrate the familys’ birthdays and then conquer whatever needed to be done in Halo.

Then his gaze went to the bows and arrows, head tilting, already contemplating potentials of the armaments. “Have you been practicing?” Presuming it’d be better than her roping skills – of which he’d have to admit he was surprised, still, when she’d snagged at the ursur.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

She pulls a face that answers before her tongue manages to. "Whole thing's sloppier than a whore in church," she informs him with a dramatic sigh. "This," she gestures again towards the mess here, "isn't half was bad as all the roads or my pastures. Seems every day we're unsticking a cow or a horse that's gotten bogged down." Thankless and filthy work that she was happy to leave to the hands today in order to scurry out here for other matters she deemed important. "And the rain just keeps dropping buckets on our heads so there's no end in sight." It's enough water that she's sure even Sunjata can't be happy about it, although she hasn't asked him, and if he is she might throttle him into becoming a personal umbrella until he's equally as miserable. If only she could make good on it, but a girl could dream.

Leaving LongNight good and well behind them both, she nods her head instead as business redirects to the task at hand. "With bow and arrow, almost always," she murmurs, and it isn't boastful, just honest. She pulls the bow from around her shoulder and holds it firm in her hand, fingers curling against the wood grain with comfort granted by familiarity. "Can always improve my speed and aim though," she admits. "Especially on an unpredictable, moving target." Her gaze drifts up from the weapon to him, a sly smile curling in on the edges. "Figured I'd show you at my best, and work back from there in time. So, up for a little target practice?"

Colt

Deimos

He barely muffled a snort at the expression, but kept the information lodged in his mind – eyes narrowing speculatively for a moment. “Cannot remember a time we had this much rain,” and the memory mud itself cast exactly that – a collection of refrains that were never very pleasant. He half-wondered if it’d be worth a regional quest, or something specific from the gods, at least for the ranch’s sake, and he pondered over the particulars as they moved a little further into brambles and pathways.

His eyes went to the bow and arrows instead, nodding along and in agreement. “Immobile targets are always good to practice precision, but the true experience will always be if you can land upon something moving.” It wouldn’t make sense to simply stand amidst the training grounds all the time, sharpening and trying but never unfurling potential beyond those walls. Simply, why she was here. At the inquiry, his brow arched, granting a juvenile grin in return. “As long as you are ready for dodging.” For he had no intention of being anyone's pin cushion.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

Worse, all this rain and storming is liable to make the greenery flourish, which sounds like a good thing in theory. In practice, it meant some pastures could become too rich and livestock more liable to get sick. It also meant more would dry out come Longheat, leaving that much more kindling for fire season int he fall. The entire year, made worse, all because the sky saw fit to be dramatic right now. "Mm," she agrees with a sigh. "Don't like it." Once they found enough ways to deal with the mud, she'd have to be out there whacking down all the weeds and greens, doing her best to dry them into useful feed for winter rather than an over abundance now poisoning greedy guts.

It's a mentally tiring workload of seasonal dominoes that she's happy to put to rest with this arguably more simplistic task. Simple, in needing only to withdraw a bowstring and shoot. Of course there's many other factors in play that she's purposefully choosing to gloss over for now. They're things that come to her without notice, built in with practice to where she loses sight of them, far easier than the checklist of her mind about cattle trying to kill themselves before she wants them dead.

"Exactly," she agrees with a snap of her fingers, nodding along to his understanding of the different skills required with accuracy. A short laugh looses as he challenges her back in turn, and she tips her head and the hat thereupon it in acceptance. "Dodging is another one of my skills," she reassures, and though it's usually emotions or thoughts, or a stray cow horn, she thinks she can do the same with his efforts.

Parting from him to grant a bit more distance for better difficulty, not about to fire on him point blank (he'd manage still, she's sure, but just the same), she turns back towards him once she deems it enough. She expects he'll shift, finding better agility in different shape over running as a man, or perhaps use the elements to his advantage. Either way, she raises her bow, and reaching back into her sharpening quiver, withdraws an arrow that's carved to a razor's point. "Ready!?" she yells, nocking the arrow. At his sign, she exhales slow and steady, lining up her shot and leading where she expects he'll be, then releases the bowstring and sends the ammunition sailing his way.

---

1/4 Colt fires an arrow at Deimos

The Pencil Sharpener | An earthen quiver that sharpens any arrow placed inside.
Type: Dark | Style: Offensive | Level: Basic | Cost: Action

Colt

Deimos

Deimos would never think of anything battle-ready as simplistic; but he’d been a part of tactical maneuvers, stratagems, and machinations for a long while. He grew more restless when there wasn’t something armament-guided to deal with, and often readily agreed to venture forth into unknown territory with weaponry or shields, content with learning, discovering, and then taking apart the unknown. Bows and arrows could be feasible in theory, but once one was in the midst of intrepid, dangerous feats, accuracy and precision were a must.

Snorting at the laugh and reassurance (they’d see), he also began to put more distance between them, threading his way through brush and undergrowth, amidst pathways and around trees. They were natural defenses, meant to draw the eye away from him, but when she raised the bow and notched, he was already unfurling his next plan.

She shot – and he maneuvered his Mastered Air into its quiet finery. The wind caught the arrow within a breath, then turned, twisted it back around towards its owner, and fired it in return.

1/4 - tried to fire the arrow back at Colt using Air magic

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

It's safe to say Colt has never had her arrows slung back at her like this. She has dodged an arrow before, but there's something like a betrayal to it being her own and not one forged by her opponent. "Oh I see," she mutters as her gaze traces the sail of it, already straining to see if her shot landed, valuable data for adjusting her next accordingly.

Cursing the mud here making traction an unreliable companion, she runs forward, shouldering against a tree just in case these prove to be able to bend as well as about face. She hears it whistle like a warning shot into the mud where she'd been a few seconds before, proof that Deimos is not playing idly. She grins, not wanting it any other way, else she'd only be out here for praise and not growth.

Using the tree to help cover her movements, she nocks another arrow, popping out from the edge and loosing a new shot. With quicker movements she has less time to line it all up, and he's not as readily noticable now either with all his prowling cover. She didn't dip from behind her structure though until she saw a shift in the leaves. The sharp point of her arrow snarls through the air, eager for him.

---

2/4 ducks behind a tree for cover to dodge it and fires another arrow at him from her quiver

Colt

Deimos

Snorting at the utterance thereafter, he maneuvered himself deeper into the brush, not intending to make himself an easy target regardless. Between his elemental prowess and shift abilities, she had to know this was going to be a difficult method to the madness, but beneficial all the same.

He could hear her rustling by one of the trees though, and he tilted his head, watching, waiting, grinning when she’d amplified her speed. Instead of countering with the wind or air this time, he altered the elements around him, digging into the wooden proportions and Earth, until it rose up around him like a makeshift shield. No doubt she’d be able to hear the familiar hit; just not into anything resembling flesh or bone; but bark.

From there, he laughed, then utilized the same incantations to make the earth rumble and move from beneath her.

2/4 - uses Earth magic as a shield, then uses same magic to make the ground move underneath Colt

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

Once more she watches her arrow fly, charting its path with her eyes to adjust anything on her end for next time. One hand is still pressed to her tree, the lifeline to her protection here. The shot becomes obscure as it starts to dip further into the jungle, so she hears more than sees the way it sinks into elements instead of man. She's smug though, figuring he'd not have needed to conjure a shield if she'd been so far off that letting it bounce into the weeds would have been easier.

Reaching back to grab another arrow, the one time she lets go of her tree, more than mud works to unseat her steadiness. The entire ground rolls and shifts, her legs scattering over it in search of balance. She teeters, shoulder driving into the tree in the process, thankful then that it's been storming enough she has on long sleeves and a jacket.

Grimacing with effort to shove off the tree and back to solid footing, she darts through the foliage to try and escape his notice and the ripple of soil. Carefully, she slows and moves, reaching back again to draw a newly sharpened arrow. She crouches at a spot where the greenery thins a touch, exhaling softly as her gaze narrows in search. The arrow sits ready in the bow, and when she notices an adjustment, spying him as he settles and shifts through cover, she fires on him again.

---

3/4 Colt is shoved into her tree. She runs further into the jungle and fires an arrow at him again

The Pencil Sharpener | An earthen quiver that sharpens any arrow placed inside.
Type: Dark | Style: Offensive | Level: Basic | Cost: Action

Colt

Deimos

Patience long since instilled in his frame remained chiseled there – waiting it out, for movement, for motions, as the earth sprung and maneuvered. He could hear her darting around thereafter though, and opted to play in the same regards, though he motioned through stealthier means, placing the earthen shield directly in front as he took purposeful strides away from long sticks and brambles.

Perhaps that motion alone drew the arrow towards him, and he only gave a light grin when the armament skimmed upon the side of the dirt and soil, making very little sound until it hit the brush. Her accuracy certainly wasn’t off; he was just being obnoxious in his defenses.

Keeping the barrier right where it was, he opted to employ other subterfuge, and instead of announcing his presence, he motioned Air magic through the leaves in various directions. With all intention of being confusing, confounding, and difficult to catch, he crouched, still and silent otherwise.

3/4 The arrow glances off his shield, and Deimos remains crouched behind his barrier while using his Air magic to sound like he’s going in many different directions.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

She listens over the sound of her breath for the yelp of success, but nothing comes but the parting of more brush and wood. Not that she actually wanted to skewer Deimos, but, she hoped to get close to it at least. A surprised swear, perhaps, rather than agony of being hit. His silence is persistent though, his comfort in actual battle far greater than hers. She doesn't dare linger long enough to catch more than a glimpse, her position given away by her shot, and she has no interest in surfing more earthquakes. Though, she is tempted, so tempted, to call out some sort of smart ass comment at him. She's sure his answer would be a lesson she didn't want though, so she opts for her continued stealth, hoping perhaps she could take him by surprise even yet.

It continues to prove problematic to hide from him while also keeping track of him. With her focus on catching him unawares, her answer becomes a focus further on speed. At the first rustle of air she fires her next sharpened arrow immediately, moving through breath and draw in a blink, sinking into old habits from practice rather than thoughts and reminders on how they should be. When more wind rustles away from that spot though, her attention snaps towards it, focus narrowing in disbelief. Had she not even shot at him at all then? If she'd waited and double checked, would her success be proven now? "Damnit," she seethes to herself, craning for a look through the gaps in branches and leaves.

---

4/4 Colt fires at the first sound she hears, likely just his air

The Pencil Sharpener | An earthen quiver that sharpens any arrow placed inside.
Type: Dark | Style: Offensive | Level: Basic | Cost: Action

Colt

Deimos

It came with little surprise that her arrow launched entirely away from him. It did make him laugh though, as he plucked at it with his Air magic. The motion might have given away his position, but it didn’t matter much to him presently, as he had other plans for last maneuvers and mind games.

Snagging at the Mastered contortions, he began to bind them together: Air, Water, and Earth, combining the trio into a motion of endeavors. Concocting the wind together so it made a miniature cyclone effect, he placed frozen portions of snow and ice, then dirt and soil, along with Colt’s arrow (as if he was going to deliver it back to her), in the rapidly revolving mass.

Then he sent it forward so that it rolled through the underbrush, purposefully looking like it would find and chase her out into the open.

4/4 Deimos uses Mastered Air, Water, and Earth to make a little elemental cyclone to chase Colt. Also with her arrow.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight