[Training] used to be soft

but there's chaos brewing

underneath my skin

Open for countering was probably her eternal mode of fighting, simply due to impulsive actions over any amount of calculations. She took the critiques with a furrowed brow, channeling them back into her mind, where they might register for a moment or two, pondering the expanse of her turns, of her overextensions, used to it from the swing and ramparts of her staff. She’d have to hone and cobble a few more things together, remember they weren’t the same.

Parrying though was right up her alley, used to blocking opponents, used to utilizing old branches or brambles to fend off demons cast in their direction. Grappling was even more enticing, because it meant she could rush off and exploit, and the feral little grin intertwined its way along her mouth, leaving her considerably savage looking, excited, in the impending twists. She mimicked his initial motions, raising the sword, pressing it forward, practicing in the air, before shifting back to him, pondering grappling, when and where and how to employ it best.

But it was her job to strike first – so she attempted, rushing forward on a swift edge, grounding her feet into the earth, wooden blade extended towards him in rapacious, predacious form.

trying to hold in the storm

instead of making waves

MELITA