The Young Herons Dance
Cast:
Vortian: A sworn of the Tower
Gabriel: A soon to be Dedicated, and wolfbrother
Gabriel is over in a seperate little clear patch from everyone running through his first Tier forms.
Vortian watches him, then trots over and begins calling out pointers.
Gabriel glances over to Vortian giving him a brief smile at the pointers. He flows from Heron Wading Through the Rushes into Board Rushes Down the Mountain moving forward with speed and power into a series random attacks.
Vortian nods his head, pleased. Gabriel, he decides, will do fine.
Gabriel smoothly flows Boar Rushes Down the Mountain into Cat Dances on Hot Sand, as he hops to the side blade of his practice weapon parrying as his feet touch the ground.
"Too much hop, not enough parry," Vortian barks.
Gabriel moves backwards this time still in Cat Dances on Hot Sand, blade parrying correctly this time as he moves.
"Better." Vortian crosses his arms. Arrogant, he looks nearly gaidin.
Gabriel flows forward from Cat on Hot Sand into Parting Silk the blade of his practice weapon whirling through the air. He slashes hard at neck level before quickly and powerfully switching the attack to a diagonal slash from collarbone to hip.
Vortian nods again, crossing his arms. "Faster. More power."
Gabriel moves from Parting Silk into River Undercuts the Banks knees bending as he strikes out. The blade of his practice weapon is a blur as it whines cutting through the air before he quickly is back into a ready stance flowing into his next form.
Vortian nods and grabs a practice blade. He counts. One. Two. Three. Then he springs in front of you, coming down with Stones Falling From A Cliff, expecting you to be good enough to not only counter the unfamiliar, intense downward strikes towards your head and shoulder /but/ to correct as well for a sudden, real, opponent. He said he'd get you ready, and you have a pact to make blademasters out of one another. Seems he means it.
The practice blade in Gabriels hands dances upwards in a quick series of parries to counter the sudden attack from Vortian. He twist his torse moves to the side and steping to the side of the last attack, before moving on the offense against you. The practice sword in his hands lashes out in Parting Silk, striking towards the side of you neck, before cutting down in a slash from collarbone to hip.
Vortian 's stance widens smoothly and he turns his body easily to catch the slash near the guard of his sword. Then his sword rotates so that the blade points at your neck, the second part of Bundling the Straw. It strikes up, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough to sting if it hits. Blinding speed to match your own and a bear's strength to match your wolf's heart.
Gabriel falls backward to avoid the strike, turning the falling into a roll across his shoulders. He comes back to his feet grinning fiercly at the sudden surge of competition. Hes doesn't let it slow him if anything else pushing himself forward faster and hard as he lashes out with Grapevine Twines attempting to circle his own blade around yours.
But for a second does Vortian's blade remain within the Grapevine's sinuous trap, and then he's away again, spinning as if dancing with you. He steps back in again, Parting the Silk, now, his blade whistling in the wind. He seems, now, content to get lost in the dance, trying neither to win nor to loose, so much as to merely be a part. Of course, all great sword-circles run this way, until suddenly the tension builds to a blinding snap of motion, resulting in the other dancer's loss, but that moment is not this moment. This moment is predators circling one another, marking out territory.
Gabriel continues to smile as he dances the art of swords with you. Meeting the slash to the side of his neck with a simple parry before whirling slightly away from your second attack bringing his own weapon up in a diagonal slash from hip to collarbone to lock blades with you. His golden eyes blaze with energy and life as he smiles at you over the locked blades before stepping back. Looking every inch the wolf as he cirlces you waiting on your neck attack.
And the smile is returned for a second, fleeting, before he comes again, no longer the Bear, but the storm. The blade vertical, high, striking downward upon your head and shoulders in an electric arc of motion that fairly crackles with energy. Whether or not you are successful in blocking determines the sounding of the coming thunder, the course it will take. He is wind and blinding rains, prepared to throw forth still more sky-fire.
The blade of Gabriels own practice weapon meets yours in a lightening quick parry countering your strength with sheer speed. His body twisting even out go the way as your blades meet for even a milisecond. The smile is gone from his face now a look of utter concentraion replacing it, as he drops low the blade of his weapon lashing out for your knees in River Undercuts the Banks.
Does a man, a Storm, even one so well trained and fierce as Vortian, sometimes get so lost in what he loves that he misses the wolf at his heels? Indeed, a man does, and so it is that the snap occurs and the dancer falls. Or, at least, goes down to one knee, not in pain, but in acknowledgement of the pain that would be his, were those silvery teeth of men the two of you weilded in all actuality sharpened and hungry for flesh. He slides the dulled metal home into its simple sheathe, bowing his head for a moment. Respect, perhaps, or even the bear returning to give a measure of deference that another wild creature would understand. Or perhaps it is just to let all the sweat fall forth from his forehead and dampenthe earth, to take a breath, and to revel, for just one moment more, in the sweet clash of the Dance.
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