Zaro'Alk -> Pale Swordsman.
Rock-Beach End.
The Giant Demoness didn't have the same physical limitations as Tomonten possessed for the practice session for the taller woman was content to use the same limb and style to harmlessly fight. She did feel it was strange for the Swordswoman to willingly root herself to one place, and wondered why she did not attempt the obvious method against a larger, heavier foe; to move and not stop for any reason, to deny a bigger opponent the space and time to charge up momentum in a fight. Instead of relying on her apparent dexterity, the pale-skinned female merely allowed Zaro to have the advantage that she used without any regret. Thrusting the long, trimmed branch at her 'foe', the silver-scaled female detected the same thrill of conflict as many times before, hoping that Tomonten would put up a good fight, to make her exert energy to endure and execute skill rather then to flail - to practice as was the purpose of this exercise.
The impact of spear against sword was enjoyable, the momentum of the first set of rapid jabs carried through to the next volley, all forcing the smaller fighter ever-backwards, losing that advantage she foolishly failed to utilize - until soon after the last strike. Adrenaline pumped through the massive body and Zaro had to move back or sideways, not from the fear of being struck but simply to avoid being struck, although with a harmless tool like the training sword, she could have simply allowed the weapon to impact and ignore it to power through. But to keep within the spirit of the excercise, and to tempt the shorter one to over-reach herself, she avoided it with heavily weighted hops that caused the sand she landed upon to distort and shift into the air. This had been the moment she lost her advantage and wished to become more defensive, for Tomonten proved competent enough to avoid such a trap, the Gaintess fell back with that same bounce in her easy, rapid step. Zaro breathed easily, with deep and slow rise and falls of the shawl-covered chest while watching Tomonten with the same impassive visage, yet joy wormed its way into the pale yellow optics as subtle little glints of playful pleasure. Fighting was a natural act and this was beginning to become so much more then simply forcing an awkward foe back with a stick.
The nigh eight-foot tall beast of a humanoid emitted a deep, guttural growl for one long, drawn out moment that sounded so very bestial, inviting the Swordswoman to advance, and changed her posture after the bold challenge - lowering further onto bent anthropomorphic knees and reducing that former bounce to a shuffle, both hands now clutching the spear, effortlessly raised for balance and to side-swipe the sword if it was possible to strike the 'flat' sides of the 'blade'. A risky but useful tactic, one to force the smoother-skinned woman into being careful while allowing her to put to use her supposedly greater speed. At no point did she notice a witness, but was not so concerned - she, herself, had done the same not long ago.
