The word was a kaleidoscope of color as she spun through the air, tossed aside like a ragdoll at the force of that unforgiving, unearthly arm. She spun, attempted to land in such a way that would leave her in a defensive crouch, but he was too strong and had thrown her too far. She landed half on her ass mid-roll, the act of which would no doubt leave her with a bruised tail bone come the morning, but that was a thing she could recover from and she pushed the pain far to the back of her mind as she had been trained to do from an age so young she can hardly remember what the indulgence of pain-induced tears felt like. She finished her slide across the floor on one knee, one hand dropping to the ground to brace herself and her opposite foot kicking out to slow her skid before she slammed into the opposite wall. That he could’ve thrown her through said wall, had he chosen to, she had no doubt.
Her breath came faster as she watched him stride toward her, her muscles tensing in preparation to spring the moment he was in the position she wanted him. She would never be the brute instrument that he was, had been made too small and too soft to ever hope to overpower him or take him with her bare hands alone. She knew, because he had shown her over the course of several bruising, harrowing training sessions that her only hope was to be both smarter and faster than him. The problem being, of course, that she was neither of those things. Not yet.
She ran toward him to build momentum, anticipating a hand that lifted and gripping it by the wrist instead, using that single leverage point to project the lower half herself nimbly into the air and lock her legs around his neck. She flipped herself toward the ground, her legs still locked around his neck, in a move designed to take him to the floor with her. Had he been anyone else she might’ve hoped to choke him that way, but she knew that once on the ground she would have to get her legs swiftly out of the reach of his hands unless she wanted a repeat of being thrown across the room, or perhaps even something more brutal than that.
She hit the ground and attempted to roll, and while she had near mastered the move she’d just attempted on him, she was not yet perfect. Her legs tangled, twisted, and instead of leaping to her feet to attempt another attack in the split second she had him on the ground, she was left attempting to scramble away in a half crawl.
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Date: 2014-07-25 05:11 pm (UTC)Her breath came faster as she watched him stride toward her, her muscles tensing in preparation to spring the moment he was in the position she wanted him. She would never be the brute instrument that he was, had been made too small and too soft to ever hope to overpower him or take him with her bare hands alone. She knew, because he had shown her over the course of several bruising, harrowing training sessions that her only hope was to be both smarter and faster than him. The problem being, of course, that she was neither of those things. Not yet.
She ran toward him to build momentum, anticipating a hand that lifted and gripping it by the wrist instead, using that single leverage point to project the lower half herself nimbly into the air and lock her legs around his neck. She flipped herself toward the ground, her legs still locked around his neck, in a move designed to take him to the floor with her. Had he been anyone else she might’ve hoped to choke him that way, but she knew that once on the ground she would have to get her legs swiftly out of the reach of his hands unless she wanted a repeat of being thrown across the room, or perhaps even something more brutal than that.
She hit the ground and attempted to roll, and while she had near mastered the move she’d just attempted on him, she was not yet perfect. Her legs tangled, twisted, and instead of leaping to her feet to attempt another attack in the split second she had him on the ground, she was left attempting to scramble away in a half crawl.