Crawl

The rat soldier showed off his prowess, throwing the sword around between his hands and tail, provoking Hideo.

Hideo planted his foot well, launching himself at the soldier, telegraphing his first strike; the soldier flung his eyes at Hideo’s lunge and stepped out the way, knocking Hideo’s blade off course. Hideo dropped his eyes to see that there was nothing in his hands, slightly splintered. He looked up at the soldier in bewilderment.

“How did you do that?!” he said, an intrigued wonder spreading across his face.

“If I told you, they might let you in,” the soldier said, scoffing afterwards.

Hideo grunted and picked up the sword again.

“One more!” he said, poised.

The soldier hesitated before raising his sword again. “Alright…”

Hideo played the same, launching himself at the soldier. Dumbfounded, the soldier went to disarm him again, this time with his tail, sweeping it towards Hideo’s face. But this time, there was no feedback.

Hideo was on the ground behind him, getting up and wiping his face, “Had he fallen?” the soldier thought. The soldier locked eyes with him; then flicking them to the solitary mark on his face.

The soldier scoffed slightly, darting his eyes at the blemish on his face, “barely…” he thought.

Hideo took guard again, this time with a gleam in his eye. The soldier hesitated a little before following suit.

The two met close. Blade to blade. Their swords clattered for a staggered second or two. They exchanged wide swings and precise stabs. The soldier deftly blocked and countered Hideo’s unfettered and untrained attacks, while he left himself completely open.

“Don’t leave yourself open,” the soldier said as he changed his guard.

Hideo instantly disengaged, re-posing for a second attempt.

The soldier took a deep breath and repositioned himself.

This time, Hideo pulled guard and positioned his sword in a reverse grip, holding it in one hand.

The soldier watching snickered.

“You know,” he said, hand on his forehead, “reverse grip doesn’t work like it does in tales.”

“I know,” he said while adjusting his stance.

“I’m just trynna see somethin’.”

The observing soldier watched as Hideo slowly shuffled his feet to match those of the soldier sparring with him. He squinted slightly, and his whiskers tightened.

The two clashed again, this time with more ferocity.

The soldier repeated the last duel, comfortably blocking the wild swings thrown at him. As the exchange continued, another soldier or two came out from the back of the tavern to watch, tankards in hand.

“Givin’ him a chance, huh?” one said.

“Might be too much of a chance, if I’m honest,” the observing soldier said.

“Huh?”

The observer sprayed some of his wine from his mouth watching Hideo’s hand grasp and let go. Grasp and let go. Reverse grip, forward grip. Reverse grip, forward grip.

The soldier sparring with Hideo started to show some worry. His tail began to sway rashly. His blocks became less confident, and his snout started to twitch.

As Hideo’s swings started to falter and become visibly lethargic, the soldiers tail pressed from the right, whipping its end with a small crack.

The soldier looked down.

He felt no contact.

Hideo appeared at his right. The soldier’s eyes darted around Hideo until he caught the direction of the blade; seeing it was forward, the soldier shifted his weight onto his tail to dodge.

Hideo let go of his sword.

Hideo’s eyes opened as the soldier’s worry flickered in the sunlight. His hand met the sword in a reverse grip this time. The soldier’s tail hesitated, as did the rest of his body.

But the soldiers feet habitually flung him backwards, hitting Hideo’s grip with his tail as he retreated.

The two disengaged and met eyes again.

But this time, they were both sweating.