[Training] The night is dark and full of terrors

Ohhhh look, someone’s got a mouth on her! Someone’s also fucking ungrateful; at no point did Wessex have to offer the woman a chance to get her sword back. At no point did she specify that they have to stay within the torchlight - and out there, beyond it, in the dark, dark winter - out there is where Wessex would thrive. Her ears catch the woman’s sarcastic jab, and responds with, a biting laugh. “You want to bitch? Then no rules. Your loss.” If the little cunt was going to protest, then let’s do away with anything meant to make the playing field more fair. This isn’t training anymore, this has just become a fight. And really, she should know better than to say things like that in front of an Ascended. In any other situation - daylight, especially - Roana might have the upperhand. She has better strength and endurance - but Wessex has the better speed and cannot feel the cold. And it will get colder, especially if she makes Roana chase her into the open, where the wind can whip around her, frenzied and violent. To disregard the bitter chill of the winter night is foolish, especially if she isn’t already warm. But anyway. Wessex darts sideways from her crouch, sashaying towards the right. She swings the claymore out to the left with her left hand, blocking Roana’s broadsword, trying to push it out beyond her opponent’s edge’s reach. Her right arm tenses and out come the three blades from between her knuckles, long and sharp and deadly. She now, effectively, has two weapons. And she’s moving as quickly as she can, without becoming sloppy. When Roana tries to twist the blade up and bring it back down on her shoulder, Wessex simply parries up to stop the downward stroke, aiming to stop it before it comes anywhere near her shoulder. And with the Outlander’s blade hopefully stopped above her head (they are of equal height), Wessex lunges forward into a sideways stance, swiping at Roana’s inner arm in a downward motion with her claws. The Ascended bares her teeth, a glint in her eye. The woman had the opportunity to play nicely. Now, at least, Wessex doesn’t have to pretend to give a fuck. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm