KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Korbin had expected some resistance to his arm, and was indeed thrown off balance when she just let go. His leg hooked behind hers, and she caught hold of his clothes, tugging him along as she went down. The moment he realized that he couldn't regain balance, he did as he had been taught from the very beginning of his training and leaned into the fall, pushing off to land safely, and hopefully prevent himself from landing atop of Weaver. Being this much bigger, he would easily crush her, and he'd rather end up on his back on the snow than hurt her.
He would pay for the softness, no doubt. But he aimed a closed fist towards her gut all the same, with the hope of landing at least one blow of his own merit before he was inevitably pummeled. For the sake of pride, if nothing else. And because he'd be beaten worse if he was caught going easy on her. (He was, but only because he couldn't bring himself to put real force into his attacks.)
Anyone looking on from outside might think he was enjoying himself. But his expression was tight and closed, eyes full of angst, brimming with words he couldn't yet bring himself to spill.
He would pay for the softness, no doubt. But he aimed a closed fist towards her gut all the same, with the hope of landing at least one blow of his own merit before he was inevitably pummeled. For the sake of pride, if nothing else. And because he'd be beaten worse if he was caught going easy on her. (He was, but only because he couldn't bring himself to put real force into his attacks.)
Anyone looking on from outside might think he was enjoying himself. But his expression was tight and closed, eyes full of angst, brimming with words he couldn't yet bring himself to spill.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
