Morning Diamond

A battle won always brings another

Claire desperately searched for another rock, but the meadow had few to offer and without the added protection the distance between her and the soldier offered, she knew she would be forced to fend against the man charging after her. She sent a worried look towards Mark, but he was still occupied with the other soldier. Determined to make Leishmann's minion work for a victory over her, she moved into a defensive stance and prepared herself for battle.

Claire focused her mind on all her training, pulling from her memory the skills she had been taught since childhood. She had never actually used her abilities in a real attack and prayed she would be able to fight off a person intent on harming her.

When the man closed in on her, she allowed her instincts to control her movements. With one governed shift, she swept his legs out from under him and watched with satisfaction as he landed hard on the ground. His eye's widened in surprise when Claire stood over him.

A strange sense of power filled her. She felt exulted by the adrenaline rushing through her body and pulsing through her veins. She kicked the man-testing her strength and trying on a cloak of aggression- and with sudden clarity her mind accepted what needed to be done.

Claire looked down at her own surprise, anxiety, and anger reflected in the face before her. Her mirrored emotions stared back at her with an intensity equaling her growing rage. She had once heard that a person sees red when their emotions become uncontrolled, but all she saw was brown. Big brown eyes implanted in the face of a man with thick shaggy brown hair and brown whiskers cluttering his chin. It was the anger in his eyes that encouraged her to overcome the unwanted fears that had been forced upon her the day her home was attacked.

Each time she slammed a fist or foot down on her unwanted feelings, she felt invigorated and soon all her stressors drained from her shoulders and transmitted to the man cowering beneath her.

She lost herself in the haze of combat and continued to beat her opponent with superior skills and unforgiving vigor. Somewhere in the depths of her mind she knew she should stop, but she could not find the strength to walk away.

Her mind had taken away the ability to recognize the bloody man as a person and instead saw him as every one of the personal insecurities she had fought against for days. To her, she was not fighting a man, she was combating her circumstances. Claire was unsure how long she introduced the man to her fist, but when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her free from her path of destruction she recognized her neglect in being aware of her surroundings. Now she needed to escape the man attempting to subdue her. She struggled; determined to send her new attacker to purgatory and free herself from whatever horrible fate he had in store for her.

"Claire!" Mark called her name three more times before she realized it was his strong hold that held her captive. She stopped struggling.

"It's okay." He said softly. "It's okay. You're safe now. I have you." Mark turned her in his arms and cradled her head against his chest, guarding her from viewing the man she had just beaten. She allowed him to hold her for several minutes as she struggled to regain her composure. Finally she pulled back.

"I'm okay now." She took a deep breath before summoning the courage to look at what she had done. The soldier lay on the ground unmoving, his blood pooling around his head. He had not been overly large, and had underestimated her, making him an easier victim than he should have been. His face visibly showed signs of swelling and she knew that soon he would be barely recognizable. She held her breath, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest. When it finally moved, she shuttered; relief rushing through her.