[The only eye remaining to her is fastened to the bejeweled trident, so that she might not see his own on her injuries. Even if it is survivable, perhaps even little compared to what could have been done to her by the thing she encountered... she cannot easily bear to see how those ancient eyes might look as they cast over her body.
Most easily noticeable are the scrapes, quick to stand out out for the crimson smears of blood on dun coat and tanned hide, but in the end, shallow things over heavier bruising that will eventually rise from skids and falls upon the ice as she wrestled with one of the only other beings in Meridian or Zenith that was her equal in raw physical strength- another jinba (another her). There is a graze along her cheek from an arrow (her arrow), a puncture wound in her rump from another that has half melted away into ice. The most severe, however, is a slash across her chest from a blade (her blade) that has ripped her clothing and half-split the binding on her breasts, exposing a bit of the obsidian shard embedded in her sternum and her sunbeam bed, on the end of a long, dangling gold chain normally concealed and tucked away there where it was safest. Not for the depth, but for what it almost hit.]
Wise.
[Going to the armory. She had come with her own weapons, and had little desire for more, but it was still wise. He reaches for the weapon... and she takes it, curling her fingers around the haft, her grip tightening and spasming on the metal so that she does not startle or shy away from his touch suddenly landing on... on her hands. She had braced herself to stomach pain from fingers probing or pressing, not... his fingers sliding up her arms in a way that makes the vestigial remnants of mane along her spine where skin became hide suddenly stand on end.
She swallows, and tries desperately to pretend that she is a woman who knew what it was like to have a man touch her bare arms. The weapon seemed of fine make, and though yes, she would have thought it perhaps ceremonial for its glittering, he said it held up in battle...]
I was also trained in the naginata. It is a bladed polearm, so... unlike a spear, one may slash, as well as thrust.
[It is difficult to think of naginata. He is... so close. He had been close, in communion, but this... Is not that. And if a man were to be this close to her, she had hoped... she would be far, far more injured. Perhaps at death's door, and unable to think of anything else but the pain.]
no subject
Most easily noticeable are the scrapes, quick to stand out out for the crimson smears of blood on dun coat and tanned hide, but in the end, shallow things over heavier bruising that will eventually rise from skids and falls upon the ice as she wrestled with one of the only other beings in Meridian or Zenith that was her equal in raw physical strength- another jinba (another her). There is a graze along her cheek from an arrow (her arrow), a puncture wound in her rump from another that has half melted away into ice. The most severe, however, is a slash across her chest from a blade (her blade) that has ripped her clothing and half-split the binding on her breasts, exposing a bit of the obsidian shard embedded in her sternum and her sunbeam bed, on the end of a long, dangling gold chain normally concealed and tucked away there where it was safest. Not for the depth, but for what it almost hit.]
Wise.
[Going to the armory. She had come with her own weapons, and had little desire for more, but it was still wise. He reaches for the weapon... and she takes it, curling her fingers around the haft, her grip tightening and spasming on the metal so that she does not startle or shy away from his touch suddenly landing on... on her hands. She had braced herself to stomach pain from fingers probing or pressing, not... his fingers sliding up her arms in a way that makes the vestigial remnants of mane along her spine where skin became hide suddenly stand on end.
She swallows, and tries desperately to pretend that she is a woman who knew what it was like to have a man touch her bare arms. The weapon seemed of fine make, and though yes, she would have thought it perhaps ceremonial for its glittering, he said it held up in battle...]
I was also trained in the naginata. It is a bladed polearm, so... unlike a spear, one may slash, as well as thrust.
[It is difficult to think of naginata. He is... so close. He had been close, in communion, but this... Is not that. And if a man were to be this close to her, she had hoped... she would be far, far more injured. Perhaps at death's door, and unable to think of anything else but the pain.]