LOCKE
Oh gods, he's given her ideas. Great. He has a feeling their next training session won't go so lightly. Not that this one is. She's not playing like he is. Which is fine, he can take it. Maybe. The swing stretches the cut she's given him and he falters. She's able to block him and he almost looses his grip on his own knife. The shove knocks him wide and she's suddenly too close.
He wears no armor, only a light shirt to protect him from the worst of the sun and the occasional cold rain. Basically, there's little to stop the dagger beyond him trying to step back quickly enough. It grazes him but again, mostly superficial. He retaliates instinctively almost, swinging at her with not a blade but a clawed paw instead.
He wears no armor, only a light shirt to protect him from the worst of the sun and the occasional cold rain. Basically, there's little to stop the dagger beyond him trying to step back quickly enough. It grazes him but again, mostly superficial. He retaliates instinctively almost, swinging at her with not a blade but a clawed paw instead.
Callin' it quits now
baby, I'm a wreck
baby, I'm a wreck
