Deflect. Hook around the wrist. Pull. Twist arm under. Get them in the neck.
Slash slash! Make them lift their arm higher and higher. Run in close. Get them in the gut.
Let them come closer. Deflect their arms upwards. Get in close. Get them in the side.
Push his arm downwards. Punch them in the face. No time to wait! Get them in the knee.
Fake them out. Let them charge forward. Meet them with both blades and latch on. Get them in the stomach again.
Sera stood in front of a few stacked bales of hay that served as a sort of practice dummy. She'd been skipping out early on a few lessons with Madge to practice and train with her blades. Alone.
Everything she'd scoffed at before -- the well-meant lessons from the few Rangers that thought to aid her, getting mixed up in the affairs of others, getting serious about things -- she couldn't afford to scoff at them anymore. She only had a month or so to become better with her blades. Not enough time to be ready but enough time to at least try her hardest. She may not know her letters yet but she's far from being stupid or slow.
All her life she had needed to learn things quickly to survive another day. And even then, sometimes it just wasn't enough to walk away completely unscathed; the scars littering her arms and cheeks proved that. But with each injury came a lesson and an opportunity to do better.
Now was as good of a time as any to put that quick and determined mind of hers to good use.
