#forhippolyta

                    as her weight shifts back,      asha regaining her stance after a quick parry.       the other’s sword had proved an even match for her axe,         steel rising to meet steel,       no matter where it tried to bite.            it seemed the weapon was for more than just show. 

                                                                                    a thin sheen of sweat dampened the back of asha’s neck,       &&  her arms had begun to grow sweetly sore from the work of keeping her opponent off of her.        the iron woman was reckless on the battlefield,       far more comfortable with offense than defense.            it was rare that another found an opening in her attacks to strike back.           but her target this time had been unafraid to take advantage of any moment that asha didn’t use well.        it was refreshing,        to fight someone who feared as little as she did,       &&  she smiled as she lowered her axe to circle her opponent from a distance,       both of them pausing to think.        they seemed evenly matched  --  one of them would have to change tactics if there was to be a winner declared of this fight.    

                                     as leather boots kicked up dust  &&  axe waited at her side for another strike,          asha regarded her opponent.         a woman  --  rare enough that the krakeness had instantly been curious to see what she could do on the field.       &&  thus far,      there had been no disappointment from asha.         the woman moved with a precision that asha lacked,         a difference that only made her curiousity grow larger  --  this woman was no mere maid who had a fancy for steel;     she had been TRAINED.    by who,   for what purpose??      asha had to know.          as her opponent matched her circling,       her eyes glinted the color of the sea on a clear day,      &&  a wolfish grin spread across the captain’s face,          her own steel-grey irises trained on the woman’s strong legs  &&  quick arms  --  deadly.       she confessed,     asha liked the way her body had shifted from woman to warrior in an instant as soon as the ironborn had challenged her to a duel.          grin still in place,     she lifted her empty left hand,       palm upward.

tell me what you like best about how I write my character.

     ❝ are you hard of hearing? ❞

   santanico’s not as angry as she sounds, but she’s irritated. it’s not because she's      seeing her, but because she’s been ignored. the glare etched into her features    it’s less than uninviting— it serves aptly as a warning to the weak of heart. she    doesn’t want to sound cruel, she’s no reason to be, at least not to her, but it’s    the only thing she knows how to do.