Send âđŞâ to catch my muse working out | Accepting
She hit the bag with a satisfying WHAP!, circling it and throwing another flurry of punches. Being as small as she was, Hirani certainly didnât have the force that most who came into this training facility had, but.... well.... She tried. Very hard. And her cardio was amazing.
The twiâlek puffed a breath of air with each contact, imagining each strike to be on the important points of an enemy. Head, ears, neck, chest, all the little soft pressure points she knew she could reach on most species. Yes, a Jedi predominantly used their lightsaber, but what if it was taken away? Or lost? She couldnât use it as a crutch, it was a tool and weapon.
Thus, hand to hand was a very important skill to perfect.Â
She rolled, ducking her head to avoid an imaginary strike and followed it with a sharp hook to what she pictured as her opponentâs kidney, putting a few steps between herself and her bag, circling again.
Jab, cross, and she lifted her back leg to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick that shook the bag violently, making the chains holding it up rattle. She paused for just a moment, flexing her hands experimentally inside their wraps and gloves, before catching sight of a figure by the door, mostly blocked by her bag. She peeked around to see Alpha, the ARC Trooper she had sparred with in the past. He was strong, and she was fast, but without her use of the Force, she was no match for him.
âThat wasnât too bad, was it?â she asked, flushed from her work-out and embarrassment, though her question was good-natured, âYouâre not here to make fun of me, are you?â
