Open Feeling Eyes Roaming Over

[Somna Fern]

Timestamp 50th Fall, 513 AV

The morning chill was still in the air when the pale, lithe figure left for the morning and run errands for her master. She had always left a little early so that she had the alone time like this. Sadly, training herself in the martial arts had to be done privately in secret like this, and thus ended up being with only the most crude of tools. She had an urge to practice, however, that would not be sated. At the moment, it was still in the stages of fantasy, but she hoped that one day it would become a reality and she would be able to put some of these tools into practice. She doubted she would have to wait too long, as Sunberth was not safe and she was often out in it alone.

Somna had taken some of the makeup from her grooming kit and used it on the side of an out-of-the-way building to draw the rough outline of a humanoid. To keep it secret, it was rarely in the same place more than once. She also made sure that the medium by which she drew the outline was something that could be washed away with a little water. She drew the outline with it's arms raised slightly and knees marginally bent, as if it were ready to strike out at her. Somna doubted she'd use these skills on people that would not see it coming.

Her attire wasn't her normal silk-and-lace, but rather simple and practical clothing for walking the streets of Sunberth. Her pale hair was tied back and away from her face, with only a few strands of hair on the right side left to hang down. The hair that hung down and been fashioned into a braid for the sake of some stylized appeal, as she was still a commodity on display when she walked down a street. Once she was out of the way and ready to practice, her otherwise submissive appearance tended to melt away slightly. Eyes became sharper and movements held a dancer's grace that was fairly common to Symenestra. Hands make small arrows as the claws of her fingers positioned to meet with the tip of her thumb.

She crouched low, giving herself more the appearance of one who descended from spiders. Looking up at the practice outline, she mapped the layout of the human body over it in her mind. The first practice strike was low and to the side. It was a stabbing gesture toward the kidney under the ribs on the left side, presumable attacking the weaker end of a right hand favoring assailant. It was a strike designed to distract and induce pain. Pain kept someone from blocking, and the left hand, or guard hand, would not be as effective for the follow-up strikes.

Next was a flurry of short, sharp jabs. A whip like strike low to the bladder, the motion sending Somna into a low and graceful spiral that would bring her other hand upward and allow digits to curl. The second strike in the flurry came toward the Adam's Apple to damage the trachea. A dip to the side sent the third strike with Somna's good hand again toward the point just under the breast bone known as the Zyphoid Process. Hands would slide up and out as if to fend off invisible counter-strikes, and a clawed spear-hand strike would drive up into the right side armpit.

Every strike was more than an individual attempt. No one hit could end a fight, but each one made the next one easier to land. Many of the strikes seemed designed to give the opponent difficultly breathing. If they fought to breath, then they were fighting themselves as well as Somna. At least, that was how she saw it.