Weaver takes a step forward, eyes darting to the short sword, it’s blade curved and deadly. Though not as curved as her scythe, it was still nice to see something curved and wicked on another weapon. He jests that most ask for a name before a weapon and she looks back up to him with her usual mischievous grin. ”I suppose I have different priorities. It happens when you grow up with an older brother obsessed with weapons.”
”Weaver. And you?” she says after a moment’s pause, watching as he swings the blade in the air. Shr shifts, bringing her scythe up slightly, itching to move and fight. It always reminds her of time with her mother or brothers, learning to fight off one or two or even all three of them at once. “Care for a spar?” she asks.
”Weaver. And you?” she says after a moment’s pause, watching as he swings the blade in the air. Shr shifts, bringing her scythe up slightly, itching to move and fight. It always reminds her of time with her mother or brothers, learning to fight off one or two or even all three of them at once. “Care for a spar?” she asks.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
