RONIN
the darkstar
It's true that Ronin's days of getting breathless and needing a breather between training bouts are long gone, but that doesn't mean he can't remember what it's like. It's probably one of the reasons he'd been stationed here; regardless, as Seren skids back and returns to a guard position, Ronin gives her the time she needs. "I imagine you do," he says with a grin. "If you have to face the danger regardless, why not laugh at it? I just hope you didn't inherit my recklessness." She definitely has, though. That's already obvious.
Lancing forward to try for a lunge, this time, aiming directly for her shoulder, Ronin raises his eyebrows. "Well of course not," he says of them looking nothing alike, "you are much prettier than me. I suppose if you grew a beard, though, people might start to see the resemblance." He grins.
As for the weapons, he nibbles at the inside of his cheek. "Ranged weapons are awful against hand-to-hand. You need to be up close and personal for it to be effective. But things like flails and morning stars are tricky to defend against. It's ranged but it isn't, you see what I mean?"
Lancing forward to try for a lunge, this time, aiming directly for her shoulder, Ronin raises his eyebrows. "Well of course not," he says of them looking nothing alike, "you are much prettier than me. I suppose if you grew a beard, though, people might start to see the resemblance." He grins.
As for the weapons, he nibbles at the inside of his cheek. "Ranged weapons are awful against hand-to-hand. You need to be up close and personal for it to be effective. But things like flails and morning stars are tricky to defend against. It's ranged but it isn't, you see what I mean?"
