[ The clash of steel hits her hard, jolting painfully up her arm with the force and momentum, the angle twisting her wrist. She knows better. She shouldn't have gotten distracted, should have kept her grip tighter, her whole body engaged-- but it only takes a split second to lose control.
Ciri tries to correct her mistake too slowly. The sword is already clattering behind her. Her fingers and wrist smart.
And without hesitation, she's already pulling the silver dagger from her belt. Breathing hard, Ciri falls back into a defensive position, rethinking the optimal way to reclaim her sword.
The blood is gone. She blinks, and it's something else. Jagged wounds all down his arms, skin flayed from muscle and fat. The walls, suddenly covered in dead moths, cicada shells, crawling with flies. The monster -- it must me one of the undead, far more agile than any she's encountered so far (and why does it know her name?) -- turns its hollow eye sockets on her.
Ciri changes course yet again in the span of a second or two, and instead of going for her sword after all, she jumps up and lunges, dagger first. ]
cw: bugs
Ciri tries to correct her mistake too slowly. The sword is already clattering behind her. Her fingers and wrist smart.
And without hesitation, she's already pulling the silver dagger from her belt. Breathing hard, Ciri falls back into a defensive position, rethinking the optimal way to reclaim her sword.
The blood is gone. She blinks, and it's something else. Jagged wounds all down his arms, skin flayed from muscle and fat. The walls, suddenly covered in dead moths, cicada shells, crawling with flies. The monster -- it must me one of the undead, far more agile than any she's encountered so far (and why does it know her name?) -- turns its hollow eye sockets on her.
Ciri changes course yet again in the span of a second or two, and instead of going for her sword after all, she jumps up and lunges, dagger first. ]