Why are you doing this?, some distant part asks himself. Rather than answer that thought, Marcoulf slides his gloves back on to draw the long parrying dagger from his belt and the rapier from its scabbard.
"All right."
It's fine. With the sword clenched in the unsteady grip of his right hand and the dagger readied in his left, he moves to begin circling her. Everything is normal.
no subject
"All right."
It's fine. With the sword clenched in the unsteady grip of his right hand and the dagger readied in his left, he moves to begin circling her. Everything is normal.