ardainianhonor: (I read instruction manuals. It's my job.)
Mòrag Ladair ([personal profile] ardainianhonor) wrote in [community profile] balance_memes 2019-03-11 08:29 am (UTC)

[Distantly, she's aware of someone stepping up behind, but pays it no mind. With knives of all manner whirling about in erratic patterns, some at head height, how could one more person in the crowd be more dangerous?]

[The voice changes things.]

[They might have only met in person twice, but the association of Torna so strong that Mòrag's stepping forward and whirling on her heel before all the thoughts finish racing through her head. By then, her feet are set in a fighting stance, her Bureau-provided sheathed sword is in her left hand like a damn Chroma Katana, the weapon half-drawn and blue flames flickering around the exposed blade. Her shield remained untouched.]

[This is close quarters. There are too many people. He had saved them from and stalled Amalthus. No weaponry in his hands. He might know something. How was he here? Mòrag didn't so much relax as much as she uncoiled, straightening her stance and re-sheathing the sword. Her voice and expression was calm at least—you know, in that way a Feris was before it pounced for a kill.]


You. I'm impressed you survived.

[That was the only logical explanation, wasn't it?]

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