WC: 306
He smiled at her when she finally noticed him, and worded her greetings. She looked at his Mohawk, something he rarely noticed these days except in the morning when he could feel the invisible wolves looking at his bed head until he fixed it up.
Only a few minutes, really, you seemed at peace, but I would rather you know I was here really.
He said looking at the swords in her hands, they were quite interesting, although he was never interested in fighting. The only kind of fighting he liked was the hunting kind of fighting. Maybe it was because of the books he read in Orin’s stash when they were in Florida, that he didn’t care too much about it. The hero always won, he wasn’t the one to take books too seriously but there were times that he seemed it was right to do so.
I don’t know much about sword fighting though, I was quite entranced by your practice.
He said, he wasn’t lying, normally things like this would pass him by, but it looked as if it was some kind of artistic style rather than it be a blade going into something to kill it. He wondered if he could do something like that as an art style.
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