”Surprise me,” Weaver says as their blades clash again. Melita moves with her, as targets are annoyingly wont to do, catching the attack Weaver had planned. ”Take a risk.” This is the sort of training she had received, and she can’t help give it now. The girl is good. She’s strong, she understands the nature of battle, but she’s afraid to get hurt. Understandable. No one wants to risk the hit, but sometimes you take the risk for the reward. ”My side is wide open too.”
Weaver takes too many risks in a fight, particularly one like this when the chance of injury is nothing more than a few good bruises. This is the time to take risks, to test the outcomes, to decide what risks you are willing to make when the stakes are higher.
Weaver really hates only fighting with one blade and rules. This isn’t how real fights go, and she itches for a knife or a good kick to throw the battle toward one side. Instead she pulls her sword away from Melita’s blade, though not far, shifting her blade to swing down toward Melita’s legs. It wouldn’t be a strong attack, the approach awkward, but maybe enough to send the girl stumbling backward.
Weaver takes too many risks in a fight, particularly one like this when the chance of injury is nothing more than a few good bruises. This is the time to take risks, to test the outcomes, to decide what risks you are willing to make when the stakes are higher.
Weaver really hates only fighting with one blade and rules. This isn’t how real fights go, and she itches for a knife or a good kick to throw the battle toward one side. Instead she pulls her sword away from Melita’s blade, though not far, shifting her blade to swing down toward Melita’s legs. It wouldn’t be a strong attack, the approach awkward, but maybe enough to send the girl stumbling backward.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
