CLASH!
Wooden blades in her hands, standing before a wooden target dummy she had made herself, not having bothered to place a cover around it nor coating her blades with their protection or dust paint just striking at it without care, without precision.
CLASH!
Why did she always do this? Time and again, no matter how often she said it was to be the last, no matter how many excuses she gave herself she always friggin did this time and again.
CLASH!
A look down to her hands and arms, the shocks of the blade against the wood supposed to reverberate, to hurt with a recoil but so easily stopped by her supernally dense muscles, not allowing the full impact to be felt, to take shape and form.
CLASH!!
Striking harder and harder, faster and faster as her breathing begins to falter, why did she keep this destructive path up? It was not her desire, not her will, when on the road, when traveling so was it one thing but now? She was to settle down here for the foreseeable future, for the chance to actually build something, to not just disappear after a couple of days or weeks had passed, for once she had a chance to not be locked due to her walking spirit but she still did it. It had been one thing before, when she was still to young to need to care, when the countless gathered, or when it was those she felt the most comfortable with but now?
Clash!
Softly panting, how many times had she told herself that this would be the last now, that it was not meant to be done again, it would be the last time, only to give into her lustful nature and finding herself right back at it again the next night or even the same at times. Had it been a man so sure the men whose eyes could not see the truth were not for her, but this had n...
I dont care.
Shaking her head as the sudden memory that just refused to leave her alone reared its presence again, spinning around with a kick to the target, not particularly graceful or honed but not like she needed much to hit a still target, wanting to feel the pain but barely feeling anything as her hardened self once more breaks it down to nothing more than just being registered with no pain, with no bruise to take shape.
Are you?
Shaking her head, trying to get the memories out with a loud scream, striking the target faster and faster with her wooden blades, the fatigue of her muscles rapidly building up without a care, rather enjoying it but ignoring it, not being in a state to be bothered by it. For once she had even fought her instincts to just go for the temporary, laid her desires bare the only way she knew how with being completely upfront without a sliver of hesitation, the silence the first clue, the later rejection as plain as day even if spoken in a teasing manner so was it so easy to see it had almost felt better to be told no directly.
CLASH CLASH CLASH!
Once, the direct approach had worked once, and ended as one might expect, as she should have realized from the tales she had heard, only worsened by further sights and insights, intriguing and informative as it had been from more angles than she could even have begun to imagine.
CLASH CLASH!
Arms starting to get heavier and heavier to lift, and the man who called himself her friend, her one chance to be saved from herself had not even begun to see the signals, to lost in his own, in his desire to get back to his family abandoning her, were they not supposed to be friends, or was it simply just that he was so blind to be able to see the obvious she was showing.
Thwack!
Watching her right hand clenched around the wooden blade, fists against the target, followed by another and another, wanting to feel the sensation of bleeding to no avail.
Not alone.
Biting down, why was it so hard to follow her own true desires, so easy to give into the temporary, it had been a sleeper even, a female sleeper meaning one of the main issues of why she did not look to men was not present, still she had given in frickin again.
Why?
Trying to lift her arms, barely able to move them anymore but she was not one to give in, pushing herself against her body´s desire to rest with forced sloppier and sloppier strikes. Why was it so hard to grasp and follow in the world of lasting, of feelings, so many around her seemed to instinctly know how, they fought and went separate paths in time yes but that to was part of life, of the enjoyment of it, to be able to feel the sensations she could barely dream of.
CLash..
Then again what could she expect? She was a lie, start to finish, no one was ever truly let in, no one had seen her, no one knew anything about her, not in truth, just surface revelations meant to not be looked under, even her name be it Rose or Skye were bot fabricated lies meant to keep her hidden, her own name how long had it been since she heard it? Or even uttered it to a living soul? Had it even been more than once since her eyes had been opened? No one she ever met bearing it for themselves, only deepening the lie, maybe it wasn´t strange that the temporary was her ally, that her body knew better than her.
clash.
Mustering all her strength to keep striking, to not succumb to the fatigue no matter how slow the strikes had gotten. Maybe this was what she was meant for, what was the wisest, no lasting bonds no ties, no one to miss her should her duties mean her life was over, that she would be called back to where her spirit was meant to be. Maybe everyone had known it from the start, with the exception of her raisers, of their kindness, and forcefulness had anyone truly cared about her strange heart, even her brothers and sisters saw her as a protector first, person second. Raising her arms up high, blades dropping to the ground, fingertips pressed together as she begins to spin, and spin, and spin until finally using the momentum to deliver one final kick against the target.
BAMM!
Falling down to the ground, arms barely able to move, her whole body sore and drained, the haunting memories of her travels silenced into nothingness, her heart calm besides the pumping to keep up with the exercise, each muscle to tired to even begin to move for the time being, her mind perfectly clear in her drained state.
Ohh well, next time, or maybe just a few more nights I still need a couple more to make the words of youth true, yeah just one or two more, it wont hurt.