My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts
65th of Fall, 514.
Oh, come on. The blade slipped straight past the Pycon, and slammed into the ground to his right - where the squirrel had been moments earlier. He could see the frustration rising on the fighters face as he lifted the sword and tried again, this time for a horizontal strike that swept too high and slid over the squirrels head without him even having to budge an inch. The man was clumsy, Arch was not. Thankfully, most of the others in the arena kept to themselves and just kept diligently kicking up dirt in the background, grunting with the effort of their swings and deflections. There was a definite sting of sweat and blood in the air, from various cuts and bruises. By now, Arch had become used to the smell, and the way it left a dark taste in his mouth that was quickly swallowed down and forgotten in the moment. Times like these, he wondered how many times he'd ended up stood before these burly men who swung with all their strength and none of their cunning. It wasn't that he looked down on them, at least not in an intentionally condescending way. By now, he knew that a lot of them weren't bad. Far from it, he'd seen lesser men still fall as if they were nothing more than trees, and he the lumberjack.
The problem didn't lie in the mans skill. If anything, he could likely wield his sword with much more grace and precision than Arch could ever swing a fist. It was the squirrel - his height, his speed, his agility. All of them blended perfectly in just the right way, and together meant that the man had little chance at all when he yet again swung his blade in an attempt to draw it in line with the squirrel, and instead cleaved at nothing but air as Arch observed it all carefully. The air brushing against his body from behind, the sand beneath his feet, the speed of the blade, the tiny currents of air winding over it that would ever-so-slightly adjust his trajectory. All of these things were just as important as the other - one subtle change would be all it took to send that blade cleaving through his midsection as though he didn't even exist.
Thankfully, none of it did. A light bounce was all it took, with his tail flicking up between his legs and leaving the blade to glide effortlessly just over the space inches below his back. The wind that blew underneath held him up for just the right amount of time, so that he dropped back as soon as the opposite edge of the blade passed. Both paws swung up high over his head, flipping his weight distribution just enough that as he fell back the short distance to the ground, his upper body fell just a little faster than his lower and soon he landed on his paws, the weight attached to the end of his tail flipping over his own head and kicking his hips and legs back over his own head in a somersault that coincided with his elbows bending. When he finally landed, he was bent down in a sprinters stance, and immediately broke into a run straight for the mans legs. He didn't have a chance, the weight of the blade was pulling his arm and keeping the swing going, he wouldn't be able to bring it back in time - his shin received a good punch for his error that stunned him just long enough to send an equally powerful punch to the calf, and then a final punch right to the inside of the ankle.
The clay inside his fists was joined by amassed clay from the rest of his body, not making the fists grow.. but rather, compressing them from the pressure to ensure that they wouldn't eventually splatter when they did hit. They didn't come fast.. after all, he did need to spend a little time threading the clay back through his body and into his fists.. but they certainly hit hard, especially the last one. He could have sworn that he heard a cracking noise, like wood splintering when that punch connected. Just like that, the sword fell to the ground and the man shortly afterwards, holding his ankle and gritting his teeth hard to avoid shouting out and attracting some unwanted attention. A grown man falling from a squirrel at his feet still got him plenty though. Great.. looks like I need another sparring partner.
