he makes the first move. of course he does.
he punches hard into where your face would be if you hadn't seen it coming and crouched down. in his split second of confusion you shove your shoulder into his gut, slightly winding him.
Henry tries to regain his breath while kicking you back by the chest. you stumble back only slightly and a renewed passion lights your eyes.
this. is. war.
you let him pick up the dropped weapon, for you are sure that you will be able to beat him without any assistance and to give Henry some false confidence.
you storm toward him nimbly, but a millisecond before you collide you move slightly right and beet him fall to the ground as he was prepared to fight off whatever attack you had planned for him.
you flip Henry over with your foot and put one boot on his chest, both of yours heaving from the exhaustion from battle.
but wait. where was the sword?
YOU ARE READING
why crows burn
Fantasythis is what happens when 2 kids who read too much take a bit too far this was written by 2 people, me and my friend trinity, only the parts labeled Indigo are mine.
