"Yah-huh!" She seemed bright, the energy about her being practically radiating as she bounced with excitement in a ready stance, her posture broadening as she crouched down into a more ready position, leading with her left foot and shoulder. Her stare had become more intense as she watched him. "I ain't got a sword, though, so..."
She looked him over, appraising his stance fell into place, though his uncertainty was killing him. "Hey, I said I'd go easy on you. Don't worry, I'm always friendly!" When she had been evicted from her flat and put out on the streets, Pap already knew how to fight. Still, it was this event that would direct her toward a more violent manner of making ends meet, and as such she had grown to love the spar, to crave the contest. "Back home there was this girl - foot and a half shorter than me, fifty pounds lighter - that girl could wipe the floor with me even on some of her worst days when we sparred. Taught me everything I know about grapplin' - first lesson is tap, you know what it means to tap, Mister Silversmith?" Her tone trended toward that of a friendly conversation even as he approached to jab, cautiously as though she were either incredibly delicate or incredibly dangerous - she lunged forward, taking advantage by making a grab for his wrist with her right hand, her left foot swinging forward through his legs in an attempt to kick his base out from under him and send their little sparring match to the leaf-padded floor.
She looked him over, appraising his stance fell into place, though his uncertainty was killing him. "Hey, I said I'd go easy on you. Don't worry, I'm always friendly!" When she had been evicted from her flat and put out on the streets, Pap already knew how to fight. Still, it was this event that would direct her toward a more violent manner of making ends meet, and as such she had grown to love the spar, to crave the contest. "Back home there was this girl - foot and a half shorter than me, fifty pounds lighter - that girl could wipe the floor with me even on some of her worst days when we sparred. Taught me everything I know about grapplin' - first lesson is tap, you know what it means to tap, Mister Silversmith?" Her tone trended toward that of a friendly conversation even as he approached to jab, cautiously as though she were either incredibly delicate or incredibly dangerous - she lunged forward, taking advantage by making a grab for his wrist with her right hand, her left foot swinging forward through his legs in an attempt to kick his base out from under him and send their little sparring match to the leaf-padded floor.
