Style*
{Armia}
Armia grunted with exertion as she lunged forward, her sword slicing through the air in a vicious arc.
But her kitsune trainer, a graceful woman with rust-colored fur but with more muscle on her than most kitsune tended to have, danced out of the way effortlessly.
"Too slow," the kitsune scolded her, her amber eyes sparkling with amusement as she parried Armia's next blow with a flick of her wrist. "And too predictable. You're telegraphing your moves, darling. A blind man could see them coming."
Armia gritted her teeth, a flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks.
[Ugh,] she thought, her tail lashing behind her in agitation. [How does she make it look so damned easy? It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands!]
She pushed herself harder, putting all her strength and speed into her next series of attacks.