[Gavial is finding that she has plenty of rage of her own fueling her right now. This whole damn thing is an unsalvageable mess and she’s stuck between the need to make it all worthwhile and the desire to instead make things right.
It’s a good thing she loves fighting, because there’s no end of it to be had here, whether against the denizens of the Below come out to wreak havoc in the sunshine, or the Meridians rightfully incensed about the chaos brought to their door. This fight, here and now, is something that is blessedly easy to focus on compared to everything else falling apart around them.
So it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of quick steps and the slow and steady pulse of healing Arts mending the wound in her arm, eyes locked onto her opponent and calculating. The woman certainly has that kuranta-like speed, and it’s all Gavial can do to keep her own path circulating as that bow is raised. Another shot is the last thing she wants to contend with while still largely unfamiliar with the woman’s tactics, so as soon as she sees that bowstring drawn, Gavial halts and plants her feet; her axe is planted head down against the stone underfoot, one hand still held tight onto the haft, while she raises her wounded arm in a quick motion before her, palm outward.
The arrow breaks against an invisible shield and the momentary bright flash of magic.]
I’ll be out of your hair as soon as things calm down!
[Even as she says it, Gavial already knows this is a fight she can’t avoid. So she’s watching, sharp-eyed, in the wake of the attack, waiting to see how close the Meridian would dare to get. She needs the advantage of close quarters and is ready to pounce on any available opportunity, but who knows how much of a challenge seizing it will be.]
no subject
It’s a good thing she loves fighting, because there’s no end of it to be had here, whether against the denizens of the Below come out to wreak havoc in the sunshine, or the Meridians rightfully incensed about the chaos brought to their door. This fight, here and now, is something that is blessedly easy to focus on compared to everything else falling apart around them.
So it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of quick steps and the slow and steady pulse of healing Arts mending the wound in her arm, eyes locked onto her opponent and calculating. The woman certainly has that kuranta-like speed, and it’s all Gavial can do to keep her own path circulating as that bow is raised. Another shot is the last thing she wants to contend with while still largely unfamiliar with the woman’s tactics, so as soon as she sees that bowstring drawn, Gavial halts and plants her feet; her axe is planted head down against the stone underfoot, one hand still held tight onto the haft, while she raises her wounded arm in a quick motion before her, palm outward.
The arrow breaks against an invisible shield and the momentary bright flash of magic.]
I’ll be out of your hair as soon as things calm down!
[Even as she says it, Gavial already knows this is a fight she can’t avoid. So she’s watching, sharp-eyed, in the wake of the attack, waiting to see how close the Meridian would dare to get. She needs the advantage of close quarters and is ready to pounce on any available opportunity, but who knows how much of a challenge seizing it will be.]