"Nope!" Pap chirped, shaking her head, snickering. "No, no, imagine if you were to be disarmed, annnnddd..." She lingered on the word as he tapped her knuckles. She gave a little show of a shuffle on her knees, her hands, raised not unlike a boxer's guard, her hands open, however, fingers closed. "If I wasn't bein' friendly I wouldn't have told you to tap, Mister Silversmith. This is gonna beat the pants off of that swordplay you seem to fancy so much."
As the game began, she allowed Silversmith the benefits of a first time grappler. "The idea is to stop your opponent from being able to fight - now we're gonna be friendly, Mister Silversmith, remember. No bitin', no punchin', no dirty tricks. I promise I won't drive my knee into your groin if you promise not to tickle me - y'got it?" She paused, only to continue without any real regard for his reaction. "You got your hands, you got your arms, you got your legs and feet to control your opponent on the ground and turn a potentially unfavorable situation to your benefit. Might I demonstrate? Won't hurt ya', Mister Silversmith, won't even knock that hat of yours off... yet." Mister Silversmith's hat had just become the canary that had caught the cat's eye, so it seemed.
Lunging forward on her knees she attempted to grab the sleeve of his shirt with her right hand and haul him toward her heavily as she rocked from knees to hip to bum. Her legs moved to wrap around his waist just below the last rib, and hook her heel at the small of his back, dragging him into a closed guard. Her left arm reached across his chest to snatch at the farthest point of his collar, though did not crank it across his throat but rather paused there. Despite the yanking and jostling, she hadn't intentionally tried to dislodge the hat and in fact seemed to be moving not all that quickly at all, her grip careful not to damage seams.
As the game began, she allowed Silversmith the benefits of a first time grappler. "The idea is to stop your opponent from being able to fight - now we're gonna be friendly, Mister Silversmith, remember. No bitin', no punchin', no dirty tricks. I promise I won't drive my knee into your groin if you promise not to tickle me - y'got it?" She paused, only to continue without any real regard for his reaction. "You got your hands, you got your arms, you got your legs and feet to control your opponent on the ground and turn a potentially unfavorable situation to your benefit. Might I demonstrate? Won't hurt ya', Mister Silversmith, won't even knock that hat of yours off... yet." Mister Silversmith's hat had just become the canary that had caught the cat's eye, so it seemed.
Lunging forward on her knees she attempted to grab the sleeve of his shirt with her right hand and haul him toward her heavily as she rocked from knees to hip to bum. Her legs moved to wrap around his waist just below the last rib, and hook her heel at the small of his back, dragging him into a closed guard. Her left arm reached across his chest to snatch at the farthest point of his collar, though did not crank it across his throat but rather paused there. Despite the yanking and jostling, she hadn't intentionally tried to dislodge the hat and in fact seemed to be moving not all that quickly at all, her grip careful not to damage seams.
