The Nomad warrior was too pleased to see the interest alight in her companion’s eyes. Nothing filled her with as much joy and meeting a kindred spirit enraptured by the combative art. It was not an easy practice by far, but it was so rewarding long term. Her smile only grew, her hand still clasped around Vesper’s own tighten only slightly in assurance, before letting the limb gently fall away from her grasp.
“It is not so much being prepared for another’s engagement,” she professed with experience in her kind tone. “But being confident enough in your own skill to make the first move if need be. Being prepared comes from accepting that you will be the attacked, as opposed to the attacker. With this mentality, no matter the situation, you have already lost.” There was so much more she could have delved into on the topic, but felt there was little need at the present moment. This was put an introduction into the vast, violent world of combat. Though her particular practice involved the diversion of hostile energy, it did not mean the dealing out violent energy herself was not included. Before such routes were taken, the Nomad had to be certain her friend knew what she asked for.
The hand released but moments ago was suddenly taken again by a light, but firm grasp. The warm amber gaze of the woman peered down into soft sky hues, her muzzle wearing an endearing smile. “I could teach you movement, how to execute and repel, but it is contingent upon your confidence. If you think you will fail, then you will fail. If you think you will succeed, even if your attack was reflected or missed, I promise you it will follow through none the less. My friend, I can teach you whatever you want to learn, but you must shed the doubt you have of your form and let your instinct reign. It will not fail you.”