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Post by Treble Tiderunner on May 13, 2009 22:45:09 GMT -6
Seasand locked hilts with her opponent, straining against their crossed dirks. She grunted, twisting her saber out and away, stepping back from the mock-fight. Panting, she grinned wryly at her sparring partner, who smiled briefly in return. "Ah'm tae auld for this, Enon McKie. She sheathed the saber, standing at ease as she waited to regain her breath. It had been a hard workout.
"Ach, ye're hard on yerself, Seasand. Ye are still t'best smith the mountain 'as." She looked around, holding the dirks loosely in one paw. "Anybeast think they kin best th' wild northern warrior, Enon McKie?" She called a challenge to the observers around the room and those already practicing.
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Post by Tirael on May 19, 2009 19:41:25 GMT -6
"Anybeast think they kin best th' wild northern warrior, Enon McKie?"
"I'll give it a go," Brush called, raising his paw briefly. A few of those practicing in the room looked over briefly; Enon was known to be a good fighter, and they were interested to see how this newcomer would do. Brush pushed off from the windowsill he'd been leaning against and strode toward a rack of practice weaponry. Choosing a good, worn staff, he made his way over to where Enon stood, panting slightly. Setting the end of the staff down, he said, "Let me know when you're ready." He mentally prepared himself, searching Enon's face for the look that would signal her attack.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 1, 2009 18:29:51 GMT -6
"I'll give it a go.”
Brush volunteered, crossing from the windowsill where he’d been perched to the weapons rack. Enon stood easily, drying one paw against her tunic as her good eye followed Brush, partially out of necessity, partially to keep him from seeing her ruined side. With the dim sight in that eye, it had taken more injury. For some unknown reason, she was subconsciously vain about it around Brush, and once she noticed, it was too late to change without looking absurd.
She dried the other paw, one could never be too careful in combat, even pretend combat. She left off analyzing her thoughts and feelings as Brush approached, holding a worn quarterstaff in his paws. Enon shifted to a defensive stance, holding her dirks, each with a double-edged blade longer than her paw, crossed in front of her.
"Let me know when you're ready."
It happened quickly. Enon winked at Brush over the dirks, moving forward smoothly as she did, on the offensive now. She kept her bad eye turned away purposely now, a feint.
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Post by Tirael on Jun 1, 2009 19:47:35 GMT -6
Brush moved swiftly into action as Enon attacked him. He felt lucky that she was the one attacking him; it was easier to fend off an attack than to make one. Diverting one of her blades with the staff, he sidestepped the other and began to turn her offensive against her. He found himself avoiding many of the moves he usually used in this type of combat, though he didn't get much time to think about it, thanks to the relentless back-and-forth between him and Enon. The back of his mind was probing that, however, though it wasn't coming to any real conclusions. Well, except for one, though he knew that one conclusion made things substantially more complicated than they already were.
How could he possibly know how Enon would feel about that? He barely knew what she felt about anything. He had been hoping this would be a great friendship; what if an attempt to make it more ended up destroying it? He felt uncertainty growing in him as he continued sparring, wondering where this would lead.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 1, 2009 20:13:30 GMT -6
Enon backed up, bringing the knives up in a high block before bringing one down in a snaking maneuver, an attempt to lightly scratch Brush’s arm. First blood, if it connected. She turned her face full on to Brush, contracted into a maniacal grin that twisted it and the scars beyond recognition in a horrifying mask.
"RAaaaaghh!" She snarled, dropping down to duck an overhead swipe and in an attempt to sweep his paws from beneath him with her footpaw.
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Post by Tirael on Jun 1, 2009 20:43:04 GMT -6
Brush managed to maneuver his arm mostly out of harm's way, though Enon still managed to score a small cut. He turned his attention back to Enon's face, only to find she had taken on an expression of pure evil. He found himself fixated on this, and because of his distraction, also found himself falling on his back. Realizing that Enon had tripped him, he did what instinct told him to do: lashing out with both footpaws, he caught Enon a kick that floored her as well. Rising quickly, he pinned one of her paws with his footpaw; the other seemed to have lost its grip on its own dirk. He placed the butt of his staff against her chest, panting for a moment. "Good fight," he said after a few seconds, releasing her and holding out a paw to help her up.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 1, 2009 21:10:13 GMT -6
Oof!
Standing, leaning over to finish the fight, Brush’s footpaws connected solidly with her stomach, knocking her back several feet, winding and felling her. Before breath could be regained, Brush was there, trapping one paw flat against the ground, the butt of the staff in the center of her chest. She gasped in a breath finally, trying to strike with her free paw, only to discover she had no dirk. Where had it gone?
No matter. She’d lost. She accepted his paw up, drawing in a deep breath or two before bowing to him. “That was refreshing.” She said pleasantly, as if she hadn’t snarled, hadn’t twisted her face into a mask of evil and madness. She turned her face again, telling herself it was only to see better.
“Lunch, or go again?”
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Post by Tirael on Jun 2, 2009 21:06:42 GMT -6
“That was refreshing.”
Brush grinned as he pulled his friend up. "Yes, quite," he replied, subtly emulating Enon's cool, casual regard for him. (That is, it seemed cool and casual.) He marveled at her skill; even exhausted after fighting for a long time beforehand, she had still almost managed to beat him.
“Lunch, or go again?”
Considering for a moment, he realized how tired Enon must be. "Well, I don't think it's exactly fair for me to fight somebeast who's already fought a lot...I say lunch." Putting his staff back on the rack, he went back over to Enon. He gestured forward. "After you."
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 3, 2009 21:39:55 GMT -6
Enon raised a brow sardonically at the knowledgeable looks she got from the hares close by. She sheathed the dirks, one on the right of her belt, the other at the small of her back. She offered Brush a small cloth to stop the cut she had given him bleeding.
"Well, I don't think it's exactly fair for me to fight somebeast who's already fought a lot...I say lunch." Putting his staff back on the rack, he went back over to Enon. He gestured forward. "After you."
The black squirrel led the way out of the training room, side-tripping into a small room where a small spring welled to wash her face and arms, motioning Brush to do the same. After all, sweat was ok, but there were certain situations where it wasn’t welcomed. Or the odor that went with it.
“Hungry?” She said, trying for small-talk.
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Post by Tirael on Jun 3, 2009 23:18:17 GMT -6
Brush followed his companion's example and washed off the signs of exercise, silently reveling at the feeling of cool water soaking into his fur. Coupled with the feeling of the rough towel he used to dry himself with afterward, the whole experience was rather nice. Running a paw over his head, he smoothed out the fur that the towel had poofed up; he preferred not to look like cotton candy, especially in front of Enon.
“Hungry?”
Setting down the towel, he turned to Enon and shrugged. "Yes, a little, if you are." The honest answer would have involved something about being starving, but he preferred for her to have it her own way; she had seemed happier since they'd arrived at Salamandastron, and he didn't want to do anything to threaten that. He realized then how careful he was being in regards to Enon. Again his previous conclusion came to mind, and again he put it away. He didn't feel safe revealing that until he was sure what it would cause.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 7, 2009 21:22:35 GMT -6
"Yes, a little, if you are."
"Don't be silly." Enon said, poking him in the side as they continued towards the mess hall. " I bet you're starving, no matter what I am." She adjusted her belt where it had somehow twisted. "Which I am. Starved, that is."
The ebony squirrel's fur was darker in some places than others, due to the dampness, and shone with a blue-black sheen. She glanced at her companion. "Favorite thing to eat?" She asked, swinging open the mess hall door.
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Post by Tirael on Jun 15, 2009 21:05:20 GMT -6
"Don't be silly. I bet you're starving, no matter what I am."
Moving to avoid another poke in the side, Brush mentally chided himself for sidestepping the question. It wasn't like him, anyways; both he and Enon were more used to direct expression. More and more, he was giving in to what he had already figured out, but it wasn't easy.
"Favorite thing to eat?"
Trying to avoid acting 'weird', Brush resumed his usual directness. "Hmm...that's a hard one...I'd say spring vegetable soup. Never could beat the basics." Simple soul, simple tastes. Besides, Brush's mother did make a mean soup. As the pair made their way into the mess hall, he took a brief look around the room. He had only passed through before, as the previous chance to eat there had been bypassed for his and Enon's meeting with the Badger Lord, Melroch Winterpaw. The meeting had gone well, or at least it seemed so; in any case, Brush was pretty sure that Salamandastron was on their side. "How about you? Any favorites?" he asked, a little distracted now.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 24, 2009 22:01:39 GMT -6
Leading the way was an overstatement. By now Brush at the very least knew the way to the lunch line, and they walked more side-by-side. Enon stole a glance at Brush, about to comment, but refrained without great change in expression. She simply did not have time for such silly fancies. Even if they did include handsome male squirrels. Of course not.
"Hmm...that's a hard one...I'd say spring vegetable soup. Never could beat the basics."
“Hmm. Yum.” Enon nodded to the cook politely, accepting several ladlesful of that very soup in her bowl. Moving along, she selected a few tarts, salad, and a hearty brown bread with a good crust. Greens and fruits were a little wilted, but it was to be expected, so early in spring.
"How about you? Any favorites?"
“Candied nuts.” She said definitively, moving to a clear table end, nodding to the hares occupying it. She gave Brush a sheepish look. "I have a terrible sweet tooth."
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Post by Tirael on Jul 17, 2009 1:23:34 GMT -6
"I have a terrible sweet tooth."
Brush smiled, studying Enon's face for a moment. "Don't we all..." he mused before returning his attention to the food on his tray. Sampling a spoonful of his soup, he closed his eyes appreciatively. Upon reopening them, he found himself looking in Enon's direction again. Making sure not to look down too quickly, he said, "So, do you think we can count on help from the Long Patrol? There's no telling how much of a difference they could make." He felt reasonably sure that they would agree to help, but it couldn't hurt to know where Enon thought they stood.
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Brooke
Hordebeast
Don't question me
Posts: 153
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Post by Brooke on Jul 27, 2009 16:54:16 GMT -6
Southpaw put the finishing touches on the mountain of food he considered lunch. He was about to head off to a table when he overheard the conversation taking place behind him. He whirled around almost toppling the pile of food on his plate and said, "I bally well say, which of you chaps just asked if they could count on the Long Patrol wot wot?" He looked at the two expectantly.
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