32nd of Ash, 120
"Are you sure you took down a giant?" Asked the avialae, who towered over the floored, young rathari. Arkash breathed heavily and clutched his chest while he rested on his stump. In just one move, Asmodei had brought him to the ground. Was it really so surprising? The winged-man looked as though he could slay a dragon with his stature and blade alone. Sure, he wasn't wielding a real sword at the time, but Arkash was no dragon, far from it.
"I did!" He called in a huff, then winced as he attempted to sit up. "Do you... really have to hit me so hard?" he all but whined. It hurt, everything hurt, especially in his chest.
Asmodei returned with a brief laugh, then bent down to offer Arkash a hand. Of course, the small lizard took it, then tensed his arm as the avialae carefully lifted him to his feet. "What are you going to learn if I start tickling you? If you're going to try and evade, practice with full-speed strikes." The avialae twirled his stick, and Arkash reached back to rub the base of his tail while he faced the taller male. Asmodei was right, of course. he didn't like getting knocked around, but he'd learn to swim faster if he was thrown in the deep end.
"I really did kill a man yesterday," he swore again as he bent down to collect his much-smaller stick, about the size of a dagger. "And he didn't hit me once, either." Granted, if the man had actually hit Arkash, he probably would have died. It was why they were training in combat that day.
"Prove it, then. Come at me with your dagger with the intent to kill me. I wanna see the last thing that man saw in your eye before you finished him off!" Arkash breathed heavily as he ramped up his anger. No matter how he came at it, he couldn't find the same feeling, the same grace that took him when he faced Barry and the thug alike. it was as if he'd lost all rational thought along with his inhibition in those encounters. He flowed with grace and struck efficiently and quickly. Sure, he'd lost his temper when he brought down Barry, but that was an exceptional case. He couldn't find even a trace of his anger while he faced Asmodei though. No matter how hard he tried or how loud he yelled, he couldn't conjure his rage.
With another powerful yell, the shorter rathari lept at Asmodei, and swung his small stick in a stab-like motion aimed for the avialae's gut.
Meanwhile, outside the facility, Fayeth stood patiently. She stared down the broken cobble road that led to the abandoned facility, as she was waiting for someone. Just a few days prior, she sent a message in the mail to the good doctor Faust; it wasn't a matter of business, but more of a pleasant visit. Arkash was awake and well, and she thought it fair that he saw the fruits of his labor. So, in the broad daylight, the pale Siltori waited nigh-motionless. She wasn't sure if Cyrus would even come, but her hunger had been sated recently, and she had time to kill.
"Are you sure you took down a giant?" Asked the avialae, who towered over the floored, young rathari. Arkash breathed heavily and clutched his chest while he rested on his stump. In just one move, Asmodei had brought him to the ground. Was it really so surprising? The winged-man looked as though he could slay a dragon with his stature and blade alone. Sure, he wasn't wielding a real sword at the time, but Arkash was no dragon, far from it.
"I did!" He called in a huff, then winced as he attempted to sit up. "Do you... really have to hit me so hard?" he all but whined. It hurt, everything hurt, especially in his chest.
Asmodei returned with a brief laugh, then bent down to offer Arkash a hand. Of course, the small lizard took it, then tensed his arm as the avialae carefully lifted him to his feet. "What are you going to learn if I start tickling you? If you're going to try and evade, practice with full-speed strikes." The avialae twirled his stick, and Arkash reached back to rub the base of his tail while he faced the taller male. Asmodei was right, of course. he didn't like getting knocked around, but he'd learn to swim faster if he was thrown in the deep end.
"I really did kill a man yesterday," he swore again as he bent down to collect his much-smaller stick, about the size of a dagger. "And he didn't hit me once, either." Granted, if the man had actually hit Arkash, he probably would have died. It was why they were training in combat that day.
"Prove it, then. Come at me with your dagger with the intent to kill me. I wanna see the last thing that man saw in your eye before you finished him off!" Arkash breathed heavily as he ramped up his anger. No matter how he came at it, he couldn't find the same feeling, the same grace that took him when he faced Barry and the thug alike. it was as if he'd lost all rational thought along with his inhibition in those encounters. He flowed with grace and struck efficiently and quickly. Sure, he'd lost his temper when he brought down Barry, but that was an exceptional case. He couldn't find even a trace of his anger while he faced Asmodei though. No matter how hard he tried or how loud he yelled, he couldn't conjure his rage.
With another powerful yell, the shorter rathari lept at Asmodei, and swung his small stick in a stab-like motion aimed for the avialae's gut.
Meanwhile, outside the facility, Fayeth stood patiently. She stared down the broken cobble road that led to the abandoned facility, as she was waiting for someone. Just a few days prior, she sent a message in the mail to the good doctor Faust; it wasn't a matter of business, but more of a pleasant visit. Arkash was awake and well, and she thought it fair that he saw the fruits of his labor. So, in the broad daylight, the pale Siltori waited nigh-motionless. She wasn't sure if Cyrus would even come, but her hunger had been sated recently, and she had time to kill.