MAEA
Well. Power she might have, but experience and grasp of tactics was in short supply. One did not become an accomplished fighter in a few days, let alone a bare hour, and it was revealed rather quickly. Gaping in startled wonder at the sleek, black giant of a cat that Sunjata disappeared into, Maea realized belatedly that her tsunami was headed not only for the spot where the cat had been - how could he move so quickly? - but also towards herself. With no one left to take the brunt of the impact, she found her little pillar toppled by the sheer force of her own spell, and had to save herself by cushioning the landing as she fell back into the churning waters of the river.
Once she emerged, coughing and drenched with water rushing from hair and habit, she staggered towards Sunjata, slogging through the deep river where he stood tall and steady. Almost a third smaller than him, Maea had to use her magic again to aid her, lest she be splashing around aimlessly in the eddies, and by the time she stood secure again her breath came as short as his.
It had been worth it though, seeing the surprise on his face. The smugness replacing it was less charming, and Maea changed tactics. Aiming at the water about his feet when she was close enough to work it, she hauled it up to form a bubble that would close around him, leaving only what air he might be able to inhale. It was a fishbowl of massive scale, and if he tried to leave it Maea would shift it along; keeping a careful eye on the prisoner within, to see if he actually would have trouble getting out.
She did not actually want to hurt him, after all.
Once she emerged, coughing and drenched with water rushing from hair and habit, she staggered towards Sunjata, slogging through the deep river where he stood tall and steady. Almost a third smaller than him, Maea had to use her magic again to aid her, lest she be splashing around aimlessly in the eddies, and by the time she stood secure again her breath came as short as his.
It had been worth it though, seeing the surprise on his face. The smugness replacing it was less charming, and Maea changed tactics. Aiming at the water about his feet when she was close enough to work it, she hauled it up to form a bubble that would close around him, leaving only what air he might be able to inhale. It was a fishbowl of massive scale, and if he tried to leave it Maea would shift it along; keeping a careful eye on the prisoner within, to see if he actually would have trouble getting out.
She did not actually want to hurt him, after all.
