Snippet #1628300

(Written in collaboration with Echored)

Flin dropped into some bastardized street-fighting pose, and seemed to be handling this with a degree of flippancy she probably should have expected, but also... seriousness? She was pretty sure, that under there somewhere, he really was going to give it his best shot and see what happened. So when he taunted her forward, Leander's lips twisted into a small smirk, and she figured she might as well oblige him. She didn't bother returning the verbal retorts for the moment; if sensei had taught her one thing, it was that whatever you did most of the time, you left your attitude at the door in a real fight. There wasn't any time to be firing back an forth about who was better when your actions would decide that with more finality than any words could muster.

There were a few seconds of complete stillness, then Leander lashed forward quickly, aiming her right fist for Flin's stomach, using the motion to step in and aim her left for the underside of his jaw. Not lethal with the force she was using, but either would hurt considerably if they connected.

Flin was keeping incredibly poised for the few seconds of quiet as he worked himself up for the charge. His eyes narrowed as he watched Leander drive forward, clearly motivated to land her move. He studied her fists like a hawk would eye his prey. Another rule he had learned on his own out in the streets: watch not just the oncoming fist, but the other as well. Most skilled fighters liked the surprise element, after all. He prepped for her right fist which was aiming at his middle section. Using both his hands, he cupped them together in a bowl-shaped shield which absorbed the momentum of her fist on contact, letting his body move back to weaken the force. Meanwhile, his eyes were peeled over at keeping track of her left fist, which just so happened to be aiming upward for a piece of his lower jaw. If he hadn't expected a double swing, it would have landed, and it would indeed have hurt like hell. Fortunately Flin tilted back his head to the left, Leander's knuckles brushing the underside of his cheeks but obviously missing the intended target.

While he still had her right fist in his, he took the opportunity to twist it backwards behind her back and pull up, which would cause her to turn and face the opposite direction. He pushed forward significantly, goal being to send her flying forward while he took the chance to back up some more. Whether she managed to stay upright or stumble to her knees was about to be apparent within the second, so he couldn't hesitate.

When her first fist met his hands, Leander's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and she wasn't really surprised when he knew to tilt his head back. The double-handed grip allowed him the leverage to twist her arm. She moved with it to ease up on the pressure, back now facing his chest. Acting instinctively, she slammed her head back, hoping to catch his nose with the back of skull, even has she felt herself being shoved forward. Taking the opportunity, she went with it rather than against it, moving out of his grip and pitching forward onto her hands, flipping up and over, twisting on the back end of the spring so she landed facing him, shaking out the formerly-imprisoned wrist of her right hand.

That had hurt a bit. Rather than making Leander any more averse to the idea of the fight, it rather had her wondering if this might be a challenge after all. It had been a while since she'd fought anything other than an ornery drunk, not like the tournaments she used to partake in as a teenager. This time, she'd wait, and see what he did, smirk still firmly set on her face.

Predicting that Leander would slam her head back was beyond Flin's experience and thought train. His reflexes were fast but not fast enough, and he took the head-butt with as much grace as he could as he trailed back several steps. The back of her skull hit the area between his nose and upper lip, inwardly ending in him biting the right side of his cheek and lip. A sharp, quick groan escaped as he cursed under his breath from the taste of iron and metallic meeting his tastebuds. Flin immediately went to sloshing saliva around in his mouth and spitting it to the ground. Blood had taken place of the usual watery liquid. He rubbed under his nose, massaging the sore spot while he watched Leander take a tumble forward. She took the fall like a pro, back on her feet and ready for more within the few seconds.

"You little..." he spurt sarcastically, his injury not enough to curb the thrill of the fight. The smirk on her face only made him more pumped. She was standing there waiting for him clearly. Oh, what the hell. Flin ran in a curve to Leander's left, his right, arching his way through the air, keeping his arms close to his chest. He wasn't about to let her know where he was aiming until he was close enough to strike. About a yard a way he extended his right arm, fist flying to land a hit on Leander's left shoulder. His left arm guarded his midsection for protection. He didn't want to leave her potentially handicapped by messing with her right side, the side she would most likely need in top shape if there were real attackers. He hoped she would make the same considerations.

Shades's utterance only forced Leander's smile wider, and when he ran for the left, she let him waiting patiently to see what he would do. At the least second, he went for her shoulder, and she moved, taking the hit but easing it by moving backwards with it, using the bend in her torso to drop to the ground, bracing herself with both hands and sweeping out with her legs, trying to trip him up. She had not missed that he was avoiding the most critical places to hit, and she would do the same. If he tripped and hit the ground, it probably wouldn't be all that bad, just seriously disadvantageous to his position. Her shoulder hurt and would probably bruise, but it was nothing major for the moment.

Flin felt his glide downward as he watched Leander brace herself to the ground. His fist had made contact with her shoulder, but the satisfaction was brief for he then saw, what he felt happen in slow motion, her leg extend out in front of him. She always had a Plan B to everything, it seemed. The brainwaves telling his left leg to jump seemed to make it, but the right leg wasn't as up to the challenge so much and dug into her shin with substantial force on Leander's leg. She'd probably get a bruise there, too. He dove down and drew his arms close to him, letting his shoulder and back meet the ground on impact and send him rolling along his sides. He stopped moving when his back was against the ground, facing upwards at the light blue sky. His eyebrows raised in amusement at his opponent, giving her a once-over before propping himself up with his elbows. He was definitely disadvantaged at his point on the ground. His butt was to the floor and Leander seemed to already be up on her feet. She could strike any moment, but he would rather take the beating then run off admitting defeat.

While he noticed her registering how her shoulder felt, he took the time to get in a crouching position on his feet. His fingers dug into the dirt, allowing him to regain his lost balance. He glanced off in the direction of Kali and wondered how long she would drag out this 'training'. He didn't feel like he was learning anything new at the moment. His mind was too occupied on whether he was being a jerk or not for continuing to fight Leander.

"Hey Lea," he said shortly, cutting her name in half in order to claim friendship during their combat training, "Why not give up already and admit defeat." And to add the sarcastic sting, "You should get to cooking some brunch. I'm hungry." With both hands on the ground, he pushed himself up slowly and took a few steps back, fists clenching and surely expecting another swing.

The smile fell off Leander's face the moment he opened his mouth. She'd been about to let him stand and start again, because really kicking someone on the ground did neither of them any good in terms of "training," but now her jaw clenched and she really wanted to give him a good whack to the face. She restrained her anger into a sizzling glare, though, and was opening her mouth to reply, doubtless with scathing tongue and fiery temper, when Kali called for everyone to stop. Eyes narrowing, Leander did just that, clamping her mouth shut and spinning on her heel, marching over to her equally-irritable horse (and she was so pissed she forgot to be afraid), and resolving to ignore Shades for the rest of the day. She hoped he enjoyed his bloodied tongue or nose or whatever she’d caused for the entirety of it.

And here she thought she’d escaped such childish attitudes when she’d left her parents’ home. She hated it when people clung to things for no other reason than tradition; blind to the consequences. It was like grasping at the edge of a precipice and struggling madly to pull yourself back up with bloody fingers when the drop was no more than a few feet. Only, of course such fools as would cling so desperately wouldn’t know that, would they? She sighed to herself and patted the horse’s neck. Shades probably wasn’t even like that, not really. Like as not, it had been little more than a joke, and she’d exposed her vulnerability to the world by reacting the way she had. Always, always had she been afraid that she wouldn’t be good enough to stand on her own. She was ever a tiny child, groping in the dark for something, some deed that would make her an adult, and worthy of standing on her own two feet, away from the castle built for her upon the sand by her family. She’d always thought she’d rather have nothing but a solid stone foundation than a superstructure of extravagance upon nothing.

Shaking her head, she swung up into the saddle, noting that Shadow had already done the same. Camp had been broken while they all practiced. Blondie looked considerably worse for wear, but if he was in pain (and there was no way he wasn’t), he was doing an excellent job of not showing it. Her shoulder was a bit sore, but she knew how to take a hit, and her leg wasn’t bad at all. No, what Flin had wounded most was her pride, and that was an injury that would take longer to heal than most.