[ Claire's sometimes too blue eyes bore back, gaze unflinching and hard even when her expression twitches briefly. She's being set up, and she knows it. And of course, deep down she also knows that a big ass sword doesn't fix anything. It won't fix her, and Claire knows she's her own biggest problem. Still. Still...
She holds her ground, glares up at Ciri, her own shoulders hunched inwards. Where Ciri makes herself taller, Claire shrinks a little, not in fear but in defensiveness. Like a dog ducking down and snarling, ears flattered back.
And yeah. It's a set up. But Claire's not one to back down from impossible odds, to try and punch so far above her weight class that she's found to hurt herself. So for a moment, it looks like she will wise up, for a moment hesitation flickers across her features, because she knows she's outclassed here - but then she moves anyway.
And here's the thing. Claire's good for who and what she is. Scrappy street urchin used to doing whatever it took to get by. Self-taught hunter who can tussle with nests of vampires and werewolves, who can take out ghouls and make it out the other side of a bar brawl. Who can take hits and punches, get bruised up and keep pushing without flinching. So yeah - she's good. But she's no match for someone like Ciri, and she knows it, knows it so obviously in how she tries to dart in for that hit, like she knows that unless she gets that strike in by pure chance with the element of surprise, she will not get it in, at all. Like she knows against this woman, she's going to eat dirt, but doesn't care, will not back down, will push and accept the hurt, because that's the only way she knows how to exist.
But that's always been the problem, hasn't it? That in any given moment, Claire's good - but not good enough. ]
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She holds her ground, glares up at Ciri, her own shoulders hunched inwards. Where Ciri makes herself taller, Claire shrinks a little, not in fear but in defensiveness. Like a dog ducking down and snarling, ears flattered back.
And yeah. It's a set up. But Claire's not one to back down from impossible odds, to try and punch so far above her weight class that she's found to hurt herself. So for a moment, it looks like she will wise up, for a moment hesitation flickers across her features, because she knows she's outclassed here - but then she moves anyway.
And here's the thing. Claire's good for who and what she is. Scrappy street urchin used to doing whatever it took to get by. Self-taught hunter who can tussle with nests of vampires and werewolves, who can take out ghouls and make it out the other side of a bar brawl. Who can take hits and punches, get bruised up and keep pushing without flinching. So yeah - she's good. But she's no match for someone like Ciri, and she knows it, knows it so obviously in how she tries to dart in for that hit, like she knows that unless she gets that strike in by pure chance with the element of surprise, she will not get it in, at all. Like she knows against this woman, she's going to eat dirt, but doesn't care, will not back down, will push and accept the hurt, because that's the only way she knows how to exist.
But that's always been the problem, hasn't it? That in any given moment, Claire's good - but not good enough. ]