and i'm still waiting for a life that never was
Alys paused in her shooting at Deimos's praise, shooting a grin over her shoulder before she could stop herself. It would get easier with time, the new tweaks to her stance that he'd shown her, and with practice, hitting the target in the center would become as easy as breathing. Then she could begin working in more difficult conditions - wind, snow, and so on - and on moving targets. It was nice, seeing a clear path to improvement, and she reveled in the pride that the physical labor had given her.
It was, perhaps, surprising to hear that Alys might be interested in another type of weapon, given her inclinations away from hard work when they'd first met. But she'd found that strengthening her body and mind, as weapons practice did in spades, had in turn strengthened her illusions, and she liked the way that she was beginning to feel: stronger, more capable, more confident. Still, when Deimos asked her preferences, she tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure," she said. "I've never been in a fight."
It was, perhaps, surprising to hear that Alys might be interested in another type of weapon, given her inclinations away from hard work when they'd first met. But she'd found that strengthening her body and mind, as weapons practice did in spades, had in turn strengthened her illusions, and she liked the way that she was beginning to feel: stronger, more capable, more confident. Still, when Deimos asked her preferences, she tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure," she said. "I've never been in a fight."
Alys
