[ oh, hong lu thinks. something is wrong. he knows it because he knows his own body. it had been the only thing that belonged to him, after all, this body of his - they'd began his training young. mornings were dedicated time to hone his strength; evenings were hours put away for the blade. hong lu knows the heft of each of his strokes down to the last bit of energy expended - and they're lighter than they ought to be.
fun, hong lu thinks. it means that he needs to work hard after all. hong lu's centre of gravity shifts. he ducks beneath the next swing, and then hurls himself across the field to meet his opponent. again, he approaches. again, he jabs, a flurry of high and low blows meant to disorient. ]
Oh. [ hong lu says, two minutes later, as the young man darts back again out of his range. ] Are you still gauging me?
no subject
fun, hong lu thinks. it means that he needs to work hard after all. hong lu's centre of gravity shifts. he ducks beneath the next swing, and then hurls himself across the field to meet his opponent. again, he approaches. again, he jabs, a flurry of high and low blows meant to disorient. ]
Oh. [ hong lu says, two minutes later, as the young man darts back again out of his range. ] Are you still gauging me?