[She’s hardly paying attention to anything either of them are saying. That glance Amos shoots her way says more than enough that this is the opportunity to get this done quickly, and she has to focus. Perhaps if she wasn’t caught up in the moment she’d note the bitter irony of assaulting someone in the middle of a peace conference.
Gavial picks up the pace; she doesn’t like the way Alice begins to heft that bag of hers, casual or not. Impatience begins to win out over the desire to pull this off quickly and cleanly—and that in turn wins her the proximity to easily get caught up in Alice’s sudden strike. The length of it means Gavial doesn’t have the luxury of the moment she needs to step back clear of it, so instead she braces for impact the instant Alice’s footing shifts, one arm raised up to block the bulk of the impact.
Unfortunately, it’s the arm holding the branding iron.
The shock of the impact reverberates up and down her arm and she bites back a frustrated curse when it causes her grip to falter and the rod clatters to the stone underfoot.
If Gavial were smarter, more patient, maybe she’d try to smooth this over. Let them play it off as a misunderstanding to grasp at another stealthy strike. But she doesn’t have that necessary silver tongue and her instinct has always been to swing first, talk later. Alice is moving to unzip the tall bag she’d struck at her with and all Gavial can think about is getting in close before whatever it’s hiding (a weapon, most likely) can become more of a problem. Her tail whips behind her as pitches forward in an attempt to correct her momentum after that attack and bring her in closer, arms outstretched with intent to grab for the other woman.
Secure the target first. She’ll worry about the iron later.]
no subject
Gavial picks up the pace; she doesn’t like the way Alice begins to heft that bag of hers, casual or not. Impatience begins to win out over the desire to pull this off quickly and cleanly—and that in turn wins her the proximity to easily get caught up in Alice’s sudden strike. The length of it means Gavial doesn’t have the luxury of the moment she needs to step back clear of it, so instead she braces for impact the instant Alice’s footing shifts, one arm raised up to block the bulk of the impact.
Unfortunately, it’s the arm holding the branding iron.
The shock of the impact reverberates up and down her arm and she bites back a frustrated curse when it causes her grip to falter and the rod clatters to the stone underfoot.
If Gavial were smarter, more patient, maybe she’d try to smooth this over. Let them play it off as a misunderstanding to grasp at another stealthy strike. But she doesn’t have that necessary silver tongue and her instinct has always been to swing first, talk later. Alice is moving to unzip the tall bag she’d struck at her with and all Gavial can think about is getting in close before whatever it’s hiding (a weapon, most likely) can become more of a problem. Her tail whips behind her as pitches forward in an attempt to correct her momentum after that attack and bring her in closer, arms outstretched with intent to grab for the other woman.
Secure the target first. She’ll worry about the iron later.]