She could not countenance the idea of making small talk here, to cover her mistakes, while still at the disadvantage. From a distance she could use her knives, but there was no point in backing off now and risking losing face, showing cowardice and allowing the dangerous-looking male an excuse to attack. Caspa was determined to win back some dignity, and so despite understanding that few would dare wield such a sword without the intention and skill to use it, she could only trust in her honed reflexes. A knife would have to do, although it looked pathetic next to his blade. She drew the short weapon, brandishing it against his so that the edges glanced very gently with the slightest of metallic twangs. Then she exerted the slightest of pressures, attempting to lower his sword slightly: testing his strength for although she was no behemoth, she had a wiry tenacious musculature, and he did not look significantly built either. "Who are you, what is this place, and why are you here?" she demanded, for all the world as if she had him at her mercy: acting in frustration and bitterness that her subterfuge approach had failed.
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