65th of Fall, 514.
"Woah!" Fist's punch came too fast for the squirrel to even see, and before he knew it, the grey Pycon had slammed into the squirrel with such force, he felt like a bit of his clay might have fallen off. As he tumbled into the dirt, the giant hand that made up the entirety of the female Pycon's head unraveled from its fist to reveal a dark scowl. She always wore a scowl - which was always slightly deformed because her face seemed to be at an odd angle. But today it was deeper than usual. He could tell because of the way she simply stared at him, while he recovered and rose back to his feet. Still a little unsteady, because the majority of his torso had been imprinted with the very obvious designs of knuckles left over from the incredibly powerful punch, the female Pycon shook one stubby hand and sighed.
"You need to work more on your punching power." The few hits that he'd actually managed to land on the other Pycon had barely made a dent in her thick clay - and that was saying something, because with all of the clay that moved around her body at such an alarming pace, all the way down to the tips of her fingers, there should be barely any clay in her. How could she continue to withstand such hard hits, with such little clay left in her body? It should have sunk straight through her, but it didn't. "Anyway. I think that's it for the evening." They'd been going at it for nearly two bells, but made little headway. Perhaps it was just the fact that the squirrel had already been tired out from the early morning filled with sparring with his patron. And then, in the afternoon, all of this. Or maybe it was that during all of these fights.. he'd never had anything balanced.
His patron, Ser Iros, had gone over and over again against Archailist with two distinct weapons. The Lakan, and the spear. Neither of these weapons was suitable for fighting a creature barely a few inches off the ground, and although the Akalak was very competent in his use of them, they still were little match for the squirrels dexterity. Occasionally, he was caught off-guard. But apart from that, there was little to their matches other than repeated stabbing and missing. There wasn't anything wrong with the Akalak's use of the weapons, far from it, but they were simply.. bad weapons, in the Pycons personal opinion. Many of the other opponents he'd faced during his current training had just abandoned all other weapons and gone with their bare hands and feet. Conversely, Hammer Fist was entirely too strong. She knocked over the squirrel again and again with little effort to her practice and although she was a fantastic teacher by all records, it still felt frustrating to be beaten down over and over, thanks to the very distinct differences in their ability.
For once, he wanted a balanced fight. Where he and his opponent would be equally matched, and they would really have to work to gain victory. Where there would be an equal chance of victory, in either of them. That was what he wanted. And that want, for a moment, overcame his exhaustion as he glanced around the Pits and surveyed the few people fighting and sparring. Some wrestling, some practicing unarmed combat with arms and legs, but most of them were using weapons. Big, heavy weapons - even the small ones were heavy to the Pycon. It didn't matter. With Fist returning to her station at the far end of the courtyard, the squirrel found himself free to begin wandering between the various people, rather aimlessly, in search of a worthy opponent.
He could still feel the comforting touch of the Py-String stored within his clay.. and the looming presence of his Py-Pole left at the corner. He'd been briefly working with both of them throughout the morning, although there was still plenty to be improved on with both. Fist was able to parry most of his attacks and those that she couldn't, her acrobatic talent made her too fast to be able to hit. Not that she could hit him, though, either. It wasn't a stalemate, but neither of them was really pushing far enough in the right direction to make a consistent victory. An odd stance, but one that he found somewhat comforting, when compared to when they went against each-other in unarmed combat.
"Woah!" Fist's punch came too fast for the squirrel to even see, and before he knew it, the grey Pycon had slammed into the squirrel with such force, he felt like a bit of his clay might have fallen off. As he tumbled into the dirt, the giant hand that made up the entirety of the female Pycon's head unraveled from its fist to reveal a dark scowl. She always wore a scowl - which was always slightly deformed because her face seemed to be at an odd angle. But today it was deeper than usual. He could tell because of the way she simply stared at him, while he recovered and rose back to his feet. Still a little unsteady, because the majority of his torso had been imprinted with the very obvious designs of knuckles left over from the incredibly powerful punch, the female Pycon shook one stubby hand and sighed.
"You need to work more on your punching power." The few hits that he'd actually managed to land on the other Pycon had barely made a dent in her thick clay - and that was saying something, because with all of the clay that moved around her body at such an alarming pace, all the way down to the tips of her fingers, there should be barely any clay in her. How could she continue to withstand such hard hits, with such little clay left in her body? It should have sunk straight through her, but it didn't. "Anyway. I think that's it for the evening." They'd been going at it for nearly two bells, but made little headway. Perhaps it was just the fact that the squirrel had already been tired out from the early morning filled with sparring with his patron. And then, in the afternoon, all of this. Or maybe it was that during all of these fights.. he'd never had anything balanced.
His patron, Ser Iros, had gone over and over again against Archailist with two distinct weapons. The Lakan, and the spear. Neither of these weapons was suitable for fighting a creature barely a few inches off the ground, and although the Akalak was very competent in his use of them, they still were little match for the squirrels dexterity. Occasionally, he was caught off-guard. But apart from that, there was little to their matches other than repeated stabbing and missing. There wasn't anything wrong with the Akalak's use of the weapons, far from it, but they were simply.. bad weapons, in the Pycons personal opinion. Many of the other opponents he'd faced during his current training had just abandoned all other weapons and gone with their bare hands and feet. Conversely, Hammer Fist was entirely too strong. She knocked over the squirrel again and again with little effort to her practice and although she was a fantastic teacher by all records, it still felt frustrating to be beaten down over and over, thanks to the very distinct differences in their ability.
For once, he wanted a balanced fight. Where he and his opponent would be equally matched, and they would really have to work to gain victory. Where there would be an equal chance of victory, in either of them. That was what he wanted. And that want, for a moment, overcame his exhaustion as he glanced around the Pits and surveyed the few people fighting and sparring. Some wrestling, some practicing unarmed combat with arms and legs, but most of them were using weapons. Big, heavy weapons - even the small ones were heavy to the Pycon. It didn't matter. With Fist returning to her station at the far end of the courtyard, the squirrel found himself free to begin wandering between the various people, rather aimlessly, in search of a worthy opponent.
He could still feel the comforting touch of the Py-String stored within his clay.. and the looming presence of his Py-Pole left at the corner. He'd been briefly working with both of them throughout the morning, although there was still plenty to be improved on with both. Fist was able to parry most of his attacks and those that she couldn't, her acrobatic talent made her too fast to be able to hit. Not that she could hit him, though, either. It wasn't a stalemate, but neither of them was really pushing far enough in the right direction to make a consistent victory. An odd stance, but one that he found somewhat comforting, when compared to when they went against each-other in unarmed combat.
