The night was crisp. The air was clean. The hour was late. As tired as she was, Reinaka couldn't sleep. She had spent too many nights sleeping, too many hours resting and relaxing without a care in the world. But not tonight. Tonight she would be awake and alert and ready. Her companion was sleeping peacefully, regaining his strength. That amazing strength that came wit hsimply being who he was, coupled with the severity of the Fishman Karate style.
But for her, it wasn't like that. She was born with grace and beauty and wings and that's all anyone would ever expect from her. Her family was by no means impoverished, love was abundant in her life, no one would except her to go the extra mile, to stay up at night honing skills that she would never need because of her station in life. That was why she was here, on this roof, under he moonlight, wrapping her hands and forearms in bandages.
She would have to fight for her power, she would have to train for her strength. She took a deep gust of air into her lungs, exhaled slowly and smoothly then prepared herself. Her hands were a blur, her strikes were precise--still they needed to be quicker, more precise than they were. She moved in circular side steps, dodging and aiming for an invisible target. A leg went into the air and paused, a halted roundhouse kick kept vertical and airborne. This was what she had to do to be better.
But for her, it wasn't like that. She was born with grace and beauty and wings and that's all anyone would ever expect from her. Her family was by no means impoverished, love was abundant in her life, no one would except her to go the extra mile, to stay up at night honing skills that she would never need because of her station in life. That was why she was here, on this roof, under he moonlight, wrapping her hands and forearms in bandages.
She would have to fight for her power, she would have to train for her strength. She took a deep gust of air into her lungs, exhaled slowly and smoothly then prepared herself. Her hands were a blur, her strikes were precise--still they needed to be quicker, more precise than they were. She moved in circular side steps, dodging and aiming for an invisible target. A leg went into the air and paused, a halted roundhouse kick kept vertical and airborne. This was what she had to do to be better.