“Did the cliffs help you find stillness?”
She paused. “No. But I’m not usually the quiet meditation or ‘stillness’ kind of woman in any place. It’s just been one of those days. Thought I’d give it a try.”
The more she spoke to him, the more she felt her Weaving-assigned role slide from her skin, revealing whatever passed for her true self beneath.
“And what kind of woman are you, then?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, his elbow braced casually on one knee.
Is he…flirting?The corners of her mouth pulled up on their own accord.
“One that’s better with motion. A few hard hits, a steady rhythm—” She cocked her hip, thinking.Who is this asshole, anyway? And why is he looking at me like that?Then, before she could stop herself, she added, “Would you like a demonstration?”
The suddenness of her words seemed to startle him, and his elbow slipped from his knee, sending him pitching forward until he caught himself with both hands. All the grace he’d shown before vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of embarrassment.
“My apologies, miss. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just…curious about what you do to prepare for a challenge, if not this,” he stammered as he crawled to his feet, brushing dirt from the dark linen of his pants. “I am also searching for some presence of mind and not finding the quiet very helpful.”
“Oh?” she asked again, raising an eyebrow.
“Tomorrow. I start a new assignment.” He tucked away the notebook. “It’s a…responsibility that I don’t feel ready for,” he admitted. “But I have to be ready. It’s too important, and failing is not an option.”
She nodded. That sentiment was all too familiar, something she felt every time she had to start again.
“Umm…well, I get that.” She cracked her knuckles. “Though fightinghasalways helped more than sitting still. At least for me. That wasn’t a joke. Something to burn off the…”Pain clawing at your soul?“anxiety.”
“And are you asking me to volunteer?” He asked, watching her. “To let a small, untrained woman have a go at me?”
“What? No! And I’m neither small nor untrained, you twat,” she exclaimed, laughing in a way that felt real. “Just sharing what works for me. You asked, after all.”
“Fair enough.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re a Hollow-born, then?”
“Huh?” She absentmindedly reached for her medallion, only to remember she had taken it off at some point during the night. The damn thing always made her itch. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“And senior enough to travel between Reaches? An Awakened?” His eyes traced her form. “I’ve not seen you in Ember Reach before.”
“Depends on who you ask,” she said with a shrug. “Though I seem to be here now.” All true, if unnecessarily vague.
Why the games, Rynna? she asked herself before realizing she was having fun talking to this guy.
“Uh-huh.” The glint of amusement in his brown eye was impossible to miss. “Well, at this point, I’m willing to try anything. If you’d like to take a crack at me, I’ll allow it.”
Rynna crossed her arms, giving him a slow, assessing look. “Seriously?”
His attire didn’t reveal much of what he might look like beneath it, and the mask made him even more of a mystery.
“I am at your disposal,” he said with a sweeping bow, one arm crossing his chest while the other stretched out dramatically, his head dipping low.
“Deal.” She nodded, letting her body fall into the same casual grace he exhibited. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His brow lifted for a split second, surprise flashing there, maybe recognition of the same potential she’d seen in him. But before he could react further, she was on him.
Rynna sprang forward, her foot barely grazing the ground as she launched a quick jab toward his ribs. The man moved just in time, his arm coming up to block with a sharp smack of skin against skin. Their hands met, muscles tensing as they locked briefly, testing strength. She pivoted, shifting her weight onto her back leg, and swung her other arm in a clean arc toward his shoulder. He ducked, rolling his body out of range, his feet moving into a balanced stance.
He's fast! She thought with a wild smile, permitting more of her own speed to seep through.
He countered with a low sweep toward her legs, the faint rustle of cloth the only warning. Rynna leaped, just clearing the arc of his leg, her foot hitting the ground lightly before she spun back around. Without hesitation, she struck out with a palm aimed at his torso. He caught it with both hands, but the impact sent him sliding back a few inches, his shoes scraping against the rocky surface.
Pausing, she could feel the steady thrumming of his heart beneath her hand.
“You’re good.” His voice was calm, and she could see the outline of a wolfish grin beneath the mask. “Vessel level, at least in the physical forms.”
