#headofmarmora

      “Kolivan.”

Hunk stared at the rebel with his cold emotionless eyes, “By orders of Zarkon. I hear by declare that you are to be executed for your treacherous crimes. He graciously decided to hand that responsibility over to me.” Knowing fully well that he was not going to surrender easily. He pulls out a cannon similar to his bayard.

“With that being said, where’s Keith?” He heard that he had left the area. However, he didn’t know where he had gone.

Hunk had his orders. Bring all the Paladins of Voltron to the Galran empire willingly or not. 

“That’s because it is off… Slightly anyways.” The older galra commented as he made his way over to where the other was, guiding his hand where it was supposed to be and shifting his foot to widen his stance. He took a step back before lacing his hands behind his back.

        “Now try it again, see if that has helped.”

The weapon in his hands was larger than his own, more heavily bladed, and completely threw him off-balance. Kolivan stepped forth to make readjustments, sliding Keith’s hands closer to the guard of the sword and nudging him into a wider stance. When the leader was done, Keith took a deep breath and sought to center himself, reaching out to the sword and trying to feel it as an extension of his own body. 

And then, his sparring partner attacked. 

Keith parried the oncoming blow with a grunt and jumped back. He was immediately forced on the defensive, though his opponent’s surprise advantage was shortlived. As soon as he glimpsed an opening, Keith launched himself into counterattack with a flurry of hits. Movement came easier now, but it still wasn’t quite right. The heavier weapon weighed him down, cutting his mobility to an undesirable level and making it difficult to toss the blade between both hands. 

Not right.