Optimists didn't tend to survive long in Halo, and Tal had lived long enough not to count himself among them. Deimos's words were wise, but the courier still didn't like having to admit such a glaring weakness in his patchwork training. He gave a sharp nod of acknowledgment and turned his scowl on the dancing targets, ready to take out his internal frustration on himself on them instead.
He paused long enough to be reminded of the earlier lesson - wincing a little at needing the reminder - and sighed. "Yeah... guess these guys don't know how weak my backhand is." Tal shifted his grip on his axe and rolled his shoulders, setting himself for round two.
As the new targets came whizzing in he tried to do as Deimos had suggested, charging and twisting to get a solid strike on one and then rebounding into a backhand at the second as it careened towards him. The first target splintered in a satisfying spray of splinters and cloth, but he only barely clipped the second.
Still, it was enough to knock it off course and keep it from hitting him, and he perked up a little at the unexpected success. "Hey! It worked!"
He paused long enough to be reminded of the earlier lesson - wincing a little at needing the reminder - and sighed. "Yeah... guess these guys don't know how weak my backhand is." Tal shifted his grip on his axe and rolled his shoulders, setting himself for round two.
As the new targets came whizzing in he tried to do as Deimos had suggested, charging and twisting to get a solid strike on one and then rebounding into a backhand at the second as it careened towards him. The first target splintered in a satisfying spray of splinters and cloth, but he only barely clipped the second.
Still, it was enough to knock it off course and keep it from hitting him, and he perked up a little at the unexpected success. "Hey! It worked!"
