genessia | Winter Training Camp v. 1.0

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Winter Training Camp v. 1.0 - Week Three

WHO: Winter Schnee, Hamusuke, Young Link, Navi, Ted Satchel, Mael Radec, Eleanor Hume
WHAT: Week three begins! Once a day, recruits are expected to spar with each additional recruit for a minimum of fifteen minutes. More time for sparring is allowed, but recruits may not retire for the evening until all other recruits have completed their drills. Use of additional powers and abilities are prohibited at this time; use only the weapons provided to you to complete your sparring sessions. Throughout this week, Captain Schnee will spend half an hour per day with each recruit between sparring sessions to critique and improve form, technique, footwork, and other necessary components to successful combat. Drills will continue on a daily basis for the rest of the training regiment, albeit at a lesser degree to focus on other necessary tasks.
WHEN: November 18th - 23rd, 2017
WHERE: Fayren

Winter had given the men and women in her group quite a bit of freedom the previous week. So long as they followed their instructions, she saw no need to monitor each and every one of them, but she did occasionally stroll through town to ensure that people were doing what they were told and not using the time granted to them for frivolous purposes.

Apparently some had failed to resist that temptation, because bright and early on Saturday morning, there were two fewer tents in the camp, with no explanation as to their absence. They'd been lectured severely and dismissed with no illusions that they might someday return to try again. If Winter couldn't trust her people to take responsibility for themselves when they weren't under direct supervision, then they could not be trusted to perform their duties seriously.

After the drills, she went from recruit to recruit to hear their reports and evaluate the information they'd gathered. She scarcely expected to learn anything new, but it would be interesting to know which guardians had been accommodating, and which ones could not be depended on under any circumstances to lend aid when it was needed.

It was mid-afternoon when everyone was called to assemble in the center of camp, and told to fetch the weapons they'd been assigned. Once everyone was in formation, Winter got straight to the point. "This week will focus on the basics of combat. Most of you have at least a rudimentary understanding and some level of experience, else you would not be here in the first place. You will be assigned a partner. For at least fifteen minutes you are expected to spar with this person, regardless of any disparity between your skill levels, before you rotate to the next. Once you have completed combat with every recruit at least once, you may spar with anyone you please for the rest of the day."

She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing before them. The particularly astute might notice that Winter seemed slightly more agitated and restless, but as for the reasons, she gave none.

"Each of you will also be allowed time with me for a personal evaluation. I will tell you your strengths, as well as list your shortcomings. Work to improve. And remember," she narrowed her eyes, "the use of abilities, powers, and skills possessed beyond the mundane level are prohibited. You must focus instead on your footwork and grow accustomed to the ordinary rigors of battle. If you have questions or a need for clarification, ask now."

[OOC: Everyone make a top level, and then tag other people's to initiate a spar with them. Other non-sparring threads are fine too!]

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[OOC: For evaluations, light sparring, conversations, questions, etc.]

[Radec's own guarded stance was replaced by his own hard stare at Winter

"Mrs. Schnee, I request a light spar with you."

Captain.

[The correction is harsh, and swift.]

I am your superior officer, and unmarried.

[She hasn't responded to his request just yet. Once he shows the proper level of respect, she'll answer.]

[And assuming he does (because why wouldn't he)...]

Very well then.

[Winter draws her saber, then takes a step back, her stance seemingly relaxed. But there's definitely a sense of alertness in the way she watches him -- not just his face, but the rest of him, waiting for those telltale signs of movement, like a twitch of a muscle, or the shift of his gaze to a spot on her body he means to strike.]

Attack.

"Apologizes Captain Schnee, It will not happen again."

[Radec's voice is just as harsh, but oddly respectful in its own way.]

Radec's choice of weapon was that of a ordinary fighting knife. Holding the ordinary fighting knife much like his own, he eyed Captain Schnee.

He took the knife and held it downwards, turned in his left hand. He was already eying Captain Schee's own weapon and eying the way she held it. That's when he ran. The weapon Winter had given him had felt somewhat comfortable in his own hands.

He had aimed at Winter's own fighting hand, expecting her to match him right away.

Winter didn't even need to move. Her arm came up, wrist slightly bent, and the tip of her saber jabbed into the center of his chest before he had any hope of reaching his target. It was a move meant only to stop him in his tracks, not a forward thrust to puncture through his body, but his armor might have a little souvenir as a result.

"Careless," she remarked. "With your shorter blade, you are at a severe disadvantage to begin with. Matched against someone who wields a sword, you will have to devise a strategy more cunning than 'running straight at your enemy.'" She gave her sword a little push to back him up, indicating that he should take up his former position.

"Try again."

Thank goodness; week 2 was a snore and a half. He didn't even get to see the castle! Ted's memory was nearly eidetic, so the studying wasn't too hard. Given his bounty work, it's practically his job to keep a working who's who anyway. To top it all off, the work seemed to imply that sprites, soulless dolls all, were significant; a notion he can't take very seriously. He sheds no tears for the missing recruits. He almost missed the torture of the first week, give or take some lactic acid.

Now it's sparring! Joyous day! Something full of intimacy and personality. As long as it's with someone real, anyway. Ted's eclectic martial experience was nearly as eccentric as himself. A demon narcissist, a legendary mercenary, an extremely gifted swordswoman, and a centuries-old, oriental demon all contributed to the would-be knight, not to mention his own self study. In battle he is preternaturally agile and very light on his feet. A high pain threshold, too; he seemed to outright ignore any but the most terrible of blows, eager to continue the dance.

There's just one problem: most of the pendant-bearers are women.

He'd have no qualms going all-out against Radec. He probably wouldn't do all that well, given his opponents' deeply ingrained history as a hardened soldier. But what Ted lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm and youthful verve.

Said enthusiasm wanes in the face of the fairer sex. If they were wrestling, it'd be one thing. He knows a fair few ways to incapacitate without pain. But they were instructed to bring arms to bear, and Ted could only enjoy the prospect of beating off women with a stick metaphorically. He would fight, if one could call it fighting, very softly. He was practically all defense, blocking and parrying and dodging. Any strikes he managed to land would turn to brushes if contact seemed sure. The roughest he'd get with them is knocking a weapon out of their hands. Maybe a trip if the pratfall looked funny enough.

He'd have more fun with Link, taunting and laughing merrily whenever their turn came. A boyish kind of fun would present itself, diminished somewhat by Link's age. He is still a child, after all.

Hamusuke? He'd have to squint very, very hard to see her for the primeval beast she was. Just too adorable, and a girl besides. But then, if her fur can shrug off swords, a stick wouldn't find much purchase.

The thought of doing any violence to Navi filled him with disgust. He'd expect some baleful curse to afflict him should he hurt any fairy whose name wasn't "Maleficent". The very idea felt wrong to the bone.

He couldn't bear to watch the sparring of anyone else, with odd exception for Winter. Ted's sensitive to beauty and aesthetics, and there's little uglier than seeing women fight.

[OOC: tl;dr grills get Total Defense. It gives a +4 bonus to AC!]

Edited 2017-11-19 04:37 (UTC)

Winter's own sparring moments seldom lasted more than thirty seconds, if that. She was there to demonstrate and provide critique, not to indulge the wondering eyes of fresh-faced recruits. The less a potential enemy knew about her own skills, the better.

And now it was Ted's turn for his half hour drill with the harsh captain. She regarded him coolly as she held her epee lightly in her gloved hand. With his gay merriment and saccharine enthusiasm, she hadn't truly expected him to last this long. Even if by some chance his physical limits were not shattered, she had her doubts concerning his other enemies: boredom and a healthy respect for authority.

Still he remained, and that was at least noteworthy.

"You seem to be having some difficulties regarding your female opponents," Winter remarked, her voice neutral. "Explain your reservations."

"Potential enemy" was certainly possible, given the dark thoughts in his furtive imaginings.

Ted knew no necessary connection between hale hearts and hale bodies. If anything he thought that went the other way. Not to say that he didn't ache in all sorts of new places; Winter, true to her word, had kept things grueling. Still, it's a new experience with a strong flavor; an easy thing to love.

"Aheh, afraid I'm not much for ah, beating women with sticks."

"That much is painfully obvious," she remarked, her brow lowering fractionally. "Is it a matter of physical attraction? Or perhaps you simply don't believe that you will ever be truly threatened by someone of the opposite sex?"

She paced around him slowly, watching his face, his body language, for any hint of the true nature of his reservations.

"The greatest threat we face in our world, the hordes of soulless monsters we call Grimm, are commanded by a woman, perhaps even created by her hand. Surely you would not hesitate against such an enemy with your...stick...beatings."

Winter's first guess provokes a fit of laughter, with all the attendant body language she can stand.

"Hahahaha! Attraction? To a young woman, a giant hamster, and a fairy. Ephebophilia, beastiality, and...goodness, fataphilia, I suppose, respectively. I assure you, Winter, I'm no pervert, especially not so fantastically perverted as that!"

He considers the second, tittering again.

"Oh, no. If I had any ideas about universally nonthreatening women, your own abuse would quite disabuse that notion."

He listens attentively to that. First he's heard of the Grimm having any kind of head at all, let alone a woman. It reminded him of Arthurian romance, when enchantresses set the world ablaze.

"That's very interesting."

For a change, Ted's taciturn. It didn't sound like a question, and he knows how much Winter enjoys curt responses. In the manner of what he imagines to be military conduct, he keeps himself to the minimalist and strictly necessary.

His uproarious laughter was swiftly rewarded with a slap to the side of his head. "Don't be a fool. Any imbecile would know that I was speaking in general terms. Unless you mean to say that this is the first time you've been in a situation where you were forced to engage in combat with a female opponent?"

She regarded him coolly, studying his face and posture, the point of her epee dipped toward the forest floor.

At least he was correct about her own strict training methods. That much, at least, she wouldn't argue.

However, as she awaited an explanation, all she received was a useless and neutral observation. "Enlighten me as to your hesitation. This is a weakness that is easily exploited, I hope you understand."

It was only a matter of time. Winter asks the impossible, for he isn't just any imbecile. Reflexively he brings a hand to his head, expression first with surprise, then a dawning amusement. What an interesting area to hit! He would've expected the cheek, to show one was in disgrace. It seemed like the kind of nasty slap Winter would do. But the temple? That's comic. Slap-stick, if you will. (he will)

Comedic contemplation over, he turns his thoughts to the questions, as though the assault never happened. "'Forced'? Mm, no I don't...think so..."

Now he's thinking about the word in particular. "Forced"? Truly compelled? He must've encountered a villainess or two on his many bounties, but "forced"? Made to with no recourse?

He's tempted to launch into his usual discursion in explaning masculine honor and all the rest. Heroically, he resists, for it seems like the kind of thing Winter would never truly understand no matter how prolix he became. Besides, he was hoping to get something more beneficial to himself than a chance to wax verbose on the sexes.

"Oh, no hesitation, I simply don't want to. Hence the focus on defense. Well, on Earth, where I'm from, we men are hard-wired to cherish and protect women to the utmost. Extremely. A, heh, very far cry from battery."

Edited 2017-12-22 04:08 (UTC)

She could lay into him about the foolishness of unyielding chivalry, and the manipulation he's sure to encounter at the hands of someone who would exploit his reluctance.

But no. Why not let him prove himself and his values in a difficult scenario where he would be faced with the worst possible set-up?

"Adams." Winter lifted her chin slightly, eyes still on Ted, as the young female recruit with the red hair jogged immediately to join them and stopped to salute.

"Yes, captain?"

"I'm going to attack you." Winter's gaze shifted from Ted to Adams, who was doing her best not to look unsure at this proclamation. "Ted, your job is to prevent me from killing her. Prove that you can do so, and I'll say no more on the matter. Fail, and I will drill you until you can overcome this hard-wiring that plagues your sensibilities."

That escalated quickly.

Strangely, if Winter had chosen Eleanor, Hamusuke, or Navi, he'd have leaped at her before she could finish her sentence. But Adams? The soulless sprite? Way to take the fun out of it. It's not that he didn't value the sprites, but more as great possessions than damsels in distress. Thinking upon the difference between what he'd have liked and what he got served to wane his spirits further. What a disappointment.

He crossed his arms, eyes downcast and closed in thought. What was in it for him? Not a good time, certainly. He'd have the double displeasure of fighting a girl while protecting an object as if it were a person. Would the experience be valuable? Probably not. If she used aura, he'd be overpowered instantly. If not, well, what's the good in going up against a handicap? Practice protecting another in melee, then? Eh...

If there was any enjoyment to be had, it seemed paltry. What about the drills, then? Those looked quite a bit more appealing; a test of character! Could he hold out for the remainder of the course? How romantic! But then, he needn't make a decision without all the information. Can't hurt to ask. Probably.

"What, ah, would these drills entail?"

Edited 2017-12-22 23:03 (UTC)

Ted was eloquently answered in the form of a boot slamming directly into his chest. This was not a time for questions. Her terms had been stated, and as her subordinate, it was his job to obey. "You have your orders, Theodore."

Good luck catching his breath; Winter had already turned on Adams, her saber flashing as Adams stumbled back with eyes wide in alarm. When Winter went on the offensive, she was fast, and she was deadly. It was all Adams could do to block Winter's strikes, given no time to retaliate or parry.

So what would Ted choose to do now? He wouldn't have more than a handful of seconds to make up his mind.

Oh, well if it's an order, then that makes the decision all the easier for not properly existing. Well, if it means getting Winter off his back, he supposes he can muster up enough vigor to arrest a catfight.

He kips up quickly, then rushes to interpose himself between the two. Adrenaline competed with the heavy-heartedness he held for having to endure such a grisly task. Might as well make the best of it.

First, a plan. In accordance with his contested ideals, he would endeavor to resolve this with a minimum of pain. A take down would suffice; something to make Winter tap out. The problem was that he'd have to sacrifice every advantage the quarterstaff had to do it: his range.

It would have to do for now as he adjusted to Winter's pace. Ted's talent lay in his agility, and he could adapt just as quickly. He's more used to defending against slashing than thrusting weapons, but he fends away heartily. Luckily, he decided upon armored gauntlets. Why? Well, for one, they look knightly, and that's good enough for him. They'd also allow him to grip and potentially disarm a sword as safely as possible.

But closing is a ways off just yet. For a start, he'll feint with a high thrust, then move to a low sweep, his weapon's specialty.

It was about time, Winter's judgmental look seemed to convey. Adams breathed a sigh of relief, putting a hand to her chest, as Ted effectively took her place.

That didn't mean Ted would have it easy. Winter was a skilled fencer, and though a staff could easily block slashing strikes, he would have a much more difficult time parrying any piercing thrusts.

But whether he was aware of it or not, Winter was deliberately holding back. The goal wasn't to stab and humiliate her student, but push him to the point where he could let go of his weaknesses. It's why she wasn't flipping acrobatically here and there, or separating her sword into two. She'd adjust her attacks to make them more difficult once he started investing the appropriate amount of effort.

Instead of leaping over the staff as it went for her legs, she cross-stepped over it with nimble and precise timing, almost as if she were dancing. She stood at a sideways angle, the stance decreasing the area of her body he could strike as a target while making her sword arm that much closer to striking him. The tip of the blade snaked out, probing at his defenses, always seeking the opportunity to jab at a shoulder or hip.

"Dancing" is a good word to describe Ted's maneuvers. Even in an ugly fight, his footwork was as fluid and free as anything. Fast too, though perhaps wanting in precision. Luckily, he has experience with extremely skilled fencers; the one he primarily practiced with was so insanely precise that even a robot would blanch. Thankfully, it must've rubbed off on him.

Oh, if Winter wanted to, he'd get stuck a few times, and likely wouldn't notice until someone pointed out his clothes were redder than usual. Whether that was due to obliviousness or sheer concentration was hard to say. Winter had gotten into a medium range, prompting him to switch to a half-staff grip, with both hands in the middle of his weapon. A good and a bad development; he was more in her range, but being outside of it would leave blunt beatings as his only recourse. He needed an opportunity to grapple.

As he found his groove, agility and accuracy increasing, he got more daring. He would try and apply his strong side to Winter's weak, beating his weapon into hers and throwing off balance. In that split second of disturbance, he'd step forward and make a grab for her hilt. Would it work? He sure hopes so!

He was more than welcome to try. But in return, he'd have to deal with Winter's left fist punching him in the eye.

Her own strikes weren't pressed hard enough to draw more than a spot of blood at most; she was more interested in proving a point and pushing him hard enough to attack her without restraint or hesitation. He seemed to be trying harder, but at the same time, he was still showing too much mercy in his attempts to disarm instead of strike.

"I wouldn't bother," she said in short, clipped words. "You won't be able to claim a better grip on my sword than I already have. Your weapon might divert an attack, but it isn't enough to claim my blade." The smooth guard that covered her fingers did more than deflect attacks meant to strike her hand, it also made it easier for her to maintain an easy and steady grip. He'd have a tough time wedging his fingers in there, let alone managing to gain a significant hold that would allow him to wrest away the saber.

Winter would have to be truly diabolical to provoke full-fledged fury from him. That or convince him it was for the greatest good. Otherwise, his aversion to hitting women remains no matter how many blows to the eye he takes.

Though it does sting a bit, recoiling slightly as he thinks of a new tactic. So getting the weapon itself is no good, eh? In that case, he'll just go after the whole thing!

Her entire body, to be precise. For that he still values the close distance, so he'll try another grapple, one the staff is actually very well suited for. It'd require an overhead strike, or at least something he can block horizontally. From there he'd leverage his speed and strength to hook the blade, bringing one end of the staff behind her neck. He'd step in after the bind, then "row the boat", bringing her head down and beside his hip for a follow-up.

At least, that's the theory. In practice? Well, at least he enjoys trying new things.

Instead of resisting the motion the way most inexperienced fighters might, Winter rolled with it. He tried to push her down, but instead of struggling to rise, she dropped completely, swinging her long leg with the speed and strength of a sledgehammer against his shins to throw him off-balance in turn.

"Pathetic!" she snarled, her aggravation growing. "You've become fixated on one single and specific objective."

Whether he went down with her blow or jumped back to avoid it, she was smoothly on her feet once more and lashing out with a flurry of quick, powerful strikes from her blade meant to drive him back.

"Your enemies will be able to read you like a book if you don't learn to adapt!"

Not the shins! He suffers the pratfall, yet springs up yet again. At least his "ukemi" is on point.

Ted tittered at the not-quite constructive criticism as he fell back into the pattern of batting away the oncoming thrusts. "Yes, I believe that's called concentration. Mind the difference between strategy and tactics!"

Talking in the middle of combat gave the wordy would-be warrior no trouble. What did trouble him was how to prevail. Perhaps that attempt gave her too much room. Did he need a more inescapable embrace? He may have to dispense with the staff entirely if so.

Grappling, as a skill, wasn't much appreciated in Genessia. The fencers liked their swords and weren't keen on anything closer. That may have explained how Ted, surprisingly, took the gold medal in wrestling a while ago. He remembered the principles taught by Ott: quickness is best. And Ted has quickness to spare. More raw strength, too, if biology between the sexes applied in Remnant as it did on Earth. Sans aura, anyway.

One way to find out! As they got into their rhythm, Ted would wait for another high strike, knock it up and away to create distance, then lunge for the best, most vulnerable part of the body for wrestling: the crook of the knee. Both, in fact, as he tried for a double-leg takedown, aiming to put Winter on her back. A more intimate technique, which he just knows she'll love.

[A time for sparring sessions brings back memories the days when she was examined to determine her capacity for Malak Artes. It certainly wasn't easy, and probably harder to actually learn how to tether a Malak to her command.

Those were the days. Eleanor reflected fondly on the days before her super classified mission from Lord Artorius as she twirled her mana lance like a baton with incredible skill. Those were some good days. Strong Legates to look up to. Fellow exorcists all from different walks of life joining together the follow the same path. Her own Malaks like Bienfoo--

Wait, Gods no. Not Bienfoo. Eleanor shook her head in disgust, now having unpleasant memories of possible violation.

Pushing the thought of that perverted Malak from her mind, Eleanor looks over at her new "classmates." She never got to know them very well despite being here awhile. Sociability can be difficult sometimes. And what a interesting bunch, at that.

Not that she was observing, but she was totally observing Colonel Radec. She can't say if she's ever seen him without the armor. He faintly reminds her of their daemon companion, Kurogane... Hopefully he doesn't sacrifice his own head for a dream. Given what she has observed, she probably doesn't want him as a first opponent.

Now there's Ted... That get-up certainly hide how he is. His enthusiasm, combined with that blonde hair makes her think he could pose as Eizen's twin brother. She muses to herself, what if he's somehow connected to the girl with the parasol they saw? As an opponent, she thinks he might make a good first opponent, but she'll remember he could be as clever as Magilou.

Now Link. Cute kid. His youth and bravery reminds her of Laphicet. Eleanor wonders if it's true he really is an adventurer. Hard to believe at his age. Whether it's true or not, she'd love for him to meet Laphi. Too bad that will probably never happen. Eleanor would feel bad to even spar with him at all. She'd feel like a bully.

Be prepared, though. Eleanor will once again apologize for asking Hamusuke if she's a Malakhim. She should've learned by now after talking to Miss Blackrose when she first arrived. She doesn't want to spare with a cute hamster, but...she will if she thinks about defending herself.

Finally, Navi... She does not look like a fighter at all. And, surprisingly, the hardest one to follow. Despite Navi always being around Link, Eleanor's focus followed Link more often. After all, Navi just looks like a glowing ball with wings. She doesn't really have to spare with the fairy, does she?]

"What is a Malakhim? Does it look that compatible to me?"

[ Hamusuke tilts her head to the side with a questioning look. She's not offended. She does not know her own species.]

A Malak is... The closest thing I can think of in simplest terms is, a spirit. They are beings of mana. Ageless. Even almost God-like. Exorcists like myself partner up with one or more Malakhim so we can have the power to fight the daemons in my world.

[Using the tip of her spear, she begins drawing in the ground an example. A crude dirt sketch of a very disappointing Malak she was tethered with.]

The reason why I asked is because you remind me of a Malak I was investigated partnered with. To which I still apologize for.

[She moves her spear to show the likeness of Bienfu, the "Greater" Malak.]

That is a flattering comparison, that it is, but I am no spirit. My Master, Ainz Ooal Gown is closer to a god like being.

I am fully mortal.

[ Hamusuke doesn't see the resemblance between her and Bienfu. She isn't sure about her lifespan, but she is over 200 years old.]

That does not look like a potential mate.

[She figures. Though the Malakhim are so old, they don't even bother to track their own ages. Laphicet, who looks as young as Link, is probably older than her entire group put together.

And, like, seriously. Don't get her started on the topic of partners.]

Yeah... It would be best if he is supervised at all times... I can't imagine what he would do without Velvet or Magilou to keep him in line.
Thankfully he isn't here in this world.

[The point is Bienfu is a dirty old malak and she is ashamed to have taken so long to realise it.

Eleanor hastily grinds her boot heel into the drawing's face to erase it.]

But enough about him... I don't think I ever asked you what brings you to Miss Schnee's boot camp.

I desire to improve my mental and physical strength, that I do. I have much to learn.

That's great! I always train whenever I can, so let's both get stronger. For the Abbey, for the Empyreans, for the loved ones we lost...

For Master and territory protection. We shall both get stronger for important folk, that we shall.

Poor Navi, her wings would be tired after a long day and she retreat back into Link's hat, or next to it, whichever she felt like doing. Link though, he seemed very energetic and happy for once, able to pull hard labor. Navi was proud of him of course.

Wait, did the sparring included Navi as well? Navi looked to one side, then the other. What was, how was she suppose to fight? Maybe she could team up with Link and go head on as usual. Judging by Winter, she expected everyone to go one on one.

Maybe she would inspect each match to get an idea.

[ Radec stood up as he observed his classmates and who he would have to spar over time determining which one he should fight first. He'd have to make do without his other abilities but he could deal with it. Being from a futuristic time made him have to adjust his own methods to others.

The flying fairy seemed nimble and quick with her wings but she didn't seem like she could hold a weapon.

There was the red-head female who seemed keen on observing him. He was observing his M-23 combat knife calmly. He looked back up at her, saying nothing. She seemed likea capable fighter in her own right, but the fighters seemed largely female.

Then there was the smaller kid Link who tried to lighten things up in a way. He seemed like a carefree boy, but looks could be deceiving as all things would be revealed in time.

And there was Ted, the man who had come up to him. His own enthusiasm to learn mirrored his own .. in a way. However, Radec could never admit it.

Then there was the fuzzy animal, Hamusuke. He eyed the claws of the creature and nodded. Looks can be deceiving. ]

It took all of Hamusuke's efforts to follow the mission of the previous week. Discerning what is important to a human was difficult. At least the people here didn't fear her, like they did in the Forest of Tob.

Hamusuke kept herself from using Slashing Strike, since that would be beyond mundane. She did not want to harm her fellow trainees.

Hamusuke inclined her head in a hamster version of a bow before engaging her sparring partners.
"I look forward to this match, that I do."

Hamusuke holds back on how high she could jump. Her fighting style is less refined, due to her size and proportions. She is able to dodge more than deflect weapon blows. She underestimates the humans and humanoids as much as they get distracted by her fluffiness. She doesn't want to make Winter angry by dismembering anyone.

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Winter Training Camp v. 1.0 - Week Three

Winter Schnee

Backtagged to 11-18

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