The midlander woman toppled, crumpling into a messy heap on the floor. Her dark hair, previously tied into a tight bun, spilled from its bindings and spewed in all directions. It covered her shoulders, head, and the hard mats on the floor in ebon strands. Her lip was bleeding, and both arms ripe with purple bruises. Her jaw had a bright red spot on it, and the vest she wore had nigh been ripped from her body. Â The long trousers on her legs hid most of the damage there. After a groan of pain, she managed to slap a palm down onto the floor in a bid to force herself up. "You're trying to kill me, you bastard."
Berrod Armstrong coiled back into his stance, having just endured the follow-through of a devastating high kick to the side of the woman's head. He wore the same manner of simple vest as she -- though fitted for a Midlander, so it wore quite tighter on his own broad frame. His trousers were loose in fashion, almost identical to hers save for the size. He had broken a sweat, but seemed to remain  frigid and calm through it all. "Yes, I am. The people you will be fighting won't be looking to spar with you. They'll be looking to kill you. I can't prepare you for what's going to happen by teaching you a lie. Now up, I'm coming at you again."
She barely had time to straighten up before his leg arced again, catching her gut with the instep. With a horrid, muffled cry she doubled over, and went right back to the crumple on the floor. As a cruel, final measure, he retracted the leg and snapped it again for a blunt, blasting kick to her ribs. The loud sob that escaped her did nothing to pry from him any mercy. Shamelessly he stood over her and grabbed at the length of her hair. With a solid, wrenching yank he pulled the poor woman up to eye level, his face stony to the tears that had begun to flow from her eyes. Finally, she managed one word.
"...stop."
He stopped.
Berrod released her hair and caught her into his arms, the impassive mask replaced with a dire frown of concern. "You're so damned stupid," He chided, "Not everything in this world is solved with intent and determination. You need to learn how to deal with the real threats that will come your way. You need to protect yourself." Like a father setting his child to stand, the Highlander grasped the midlander woman by her shoulders and planted her to her feet. "I stopped at your command, Ginny. But they won't. They're not just one man, they're several. And they will show you less mercy than I did."
"You didn't show me any mercy at all!"
Berrod's gaze was grim. "Exactly."
Berrod Armstrong coiled back into his stance, having just endured the follow-through of a devastating high kick to the side of the woman's head. He wore the same manner of simple vest as she -- though fitted for a Midlander, so it wore quite tighter on his own broad frame. His trousers were loose in fashion, almost identical to hers save for the size. He had broken a sweat, but seemed to remain  frigid and calm through it all. "Yes, I am. The people you will be fighting won't be looking to spar with you. They'll be looking to kill you. I can't prepare you for what's going to happen by teaching you a lie. Now up, I'm coming at you again."
She barely had time to straighten up before his leg arced again, catching her gut with the instep. With a horrid, muffled cry she doubled over, and went right back to the crumple on the floor. As a cruel, final measure, he retracted the leg and snapped it again for a blunt, blasting kick to her ribs. The loud sob that escaped her did nothing to pry from him any mercy. Shamelessly he stood over her and grabbed at the length of her hair. With a solid, wrenching yank he pulled the poor woman up to eye level, his face stony to the tears that had begun to flow from her eyes. Finally, she managed one word.
"...stop."
He stopped.
Berrod released her hair and caught her into his arms, the impassive mask replaced with a dire frown of concern. "You're so damned stupid," He chided, "Not everything in this world is solved with intent and determination. You need to learn how to deal with the real threats that will come your way. You need to protect yourself." Like a father setting his child to stand, the Highlander grasped the midlander woman by her shoulders and planted her to her feet. "I stopped at your command, Ginny. But they won't. They're not just one man, they're several. And they will show you less mercy than I did."
"You didn't show me any mercy at all!"
Berrod's gaze was grim. "Exactly."
![[Image: tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/80be4033cdf57fb6268473ef9ce37db6/tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png)
