a lion-hearted girl
A lot of people had asked Melita what are you doing. It was a par for the course reaction, given her predilection for impulsive, irrational antics, for dashing headlong into fires, for streamlining herself into an amazing aptitude for stupidity. Sometimes she could actually answer the inquiry. But those unpredictable filaments, those branches and brambles of unrelenting force, occasionally worked to her advantage. The world wouldn’t know what she’d come up with next.Which had apparently worked in her favor this time. Aurelia’s gasp caused the briefest Cheshire grin, and having forgotten the staff’s mild effects, continued on her bombardment as if nothing was awry.
The other woman slammed into her, and if it weren’t for the grounding motions in Melita’s feet, in the ways she’d been taught to maneuver her stance into defense, fortitude, and might, she would’ve been instantly on the floor, toppled. Instead, she coiled back into the force, feeling it all the way through her toes, as if an aching ricochet lived and immersed from within.
But these close quarters also gave her ample opportunity to strike again, and the positioning permitted her to attempt a strike; swinging the weapon in one practiced, precise move, towards Aurelia’s knees.
ready for a fight
MELITA
