Solo Stabbing in The Wind

[Lance Windhelm]

20th of Fall, 523

Lance grabbed hold of his dagger and started to stab at the air like he learned from the training area the other day. Thrusting, pulling and moving. He shifted his feet around in a circle, mimicking how the fights went and tried to imagine it perfectly in his mind. How the blade was angled, how it would feel when it hit. What he would do to follow up the attack. He acted it out, careful not to hurt himself on the sharpened blade.

Lance stood back up. He went at it again. The blade sailing through the air. He had to focus a lot to keep the blade under control, as to not hurt himself. Lance moved his feet back and blocked an imaginary strike with his left hand, then stabbed at the air, where a body would be. He circled around and followed the imaginary body to the ground and stabbed him repeatedly.

He was surprised when sweat started to bead on his forehead. The effort it took for him to imagine and move and stab was surprising. Lance made it worse by adding pushups to the mix. Then he mixed up the pushups, then getting up, and pushing up again. An exercise he remembered from one of the classes. They didn't only train the hands with knife, but also the body in small amounts.

WC: 226

[Lance Windhelm]

Lance got to his feet after five pushups and started to jab at the air again with his knife. His hands moved slowly, then quickly as he got decent control over the dagger. The blade moved smoothly through the air, its aerodynamics made easy to thrust, but just that much more difficult to keep control of. The blade was about 10 inches in length and smooth.

Lance jabbed twice to the side, then again to the chest of an imaginary target. The sweat continued to bead on his forehead, then stream down his face. his clothes were starting to get damp, and his shirt showed it. He would have to change after this.

The last time he was this sweaty he was working in his home town. Shopping wood, his father hated that he still cut wood after the accidents, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand sitting around and waiting for things to get done. They still needed to make it through winter.

Lance thought of home as he stabbed at the air vigorously. Home always brought out an extreme feeling for him, it made him want to work hard, be better, show them that he could make it in the world.

WC: 204