She’d been waiting for class. Excited for class. What a strange thought, that she would go to school and actually be looking forward to it. Enjoy it? Probably not. She knew some of the other students would be able to kick her ass, not that it mattered. Weaver was sort of used to getting her ass kicked, though she was also sort of tired of it. That was the point of coming here in the first place, in enrolling. So someone could teach her to stop getting her ass handed to her on a silver platter.
Not that she couldn’t fight. She could use the scythe that was almost always strapped across her back. She could use the knives that were always around her waist, tucked into boots, or wherever else she decided to hide them. Yet she can’t help but recall her spar with Saiden and how easily the water he had thrown at her had overcome her. Imagine if she could burn it away.
So Weaver makes her way to the top of the tower were Zariah waits. As usual, she wears her scythe and her usual training gear; easy to move in, not too tight, not too loose. Loren and Maea are already there, and she gives them a friendly smile, before turning her attention to Zariah and nods in greeting, waiting for instruction.
Not that she couldn’t fight. She could use the scythe that was almost always strapped across her back. She could use the knives that were always around her waist, tucked into boots, or wherever else she decided to hide them. Yet she can’t help but recall her spar with Saiden and how easily the water he had thrown at her had overcome her. Imagine if she could burn it away.
So Weaver makes her way to the top of the tower were Zariah waits. As usual, she wears her scythe and her usual training gear; easy to move in, not too tight, not too loose. Loren and Maea are already there, and she gives them a friendly smile, before turning her attention to Zariah and nods in greeting, waiting for instruction.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
