[ Oh, those are the words to speak to make Red want to do more than his best. Maybe he'll get lucky and he'll be better than he thinks he is!? (spoilers: no he isn't)
But despite the way Red's expression firms and he readies himself for it, seeing the weapon in Caius's hand once he stops speaking, it reminds Red of back to the draft. Those people, with their larger wings and their blades, the first time he'd really seen them with the intent to kill. It looks heavy. Thick. Less so than the staff, but he knows its weight in his hands and the way it can hurt is different than his imagination.
Still. It makes his shoulders tense to think about being on the other side of the sword, and his lips press tighter together as he swallows. No; he can't lose his cool before even beginning.
His body is already warmed up from the training before. He has to remember this is just a training thing thankfully, and -- got to stop worrying. Just do it. So he takes another step back, the staff still held in both hands being brought to his side as he starts to turn it, slowly at first, but picking up the momentum with it as he remembers how to get into the rhythm of it. It's just for a few seconds really, gaining the feel for the weapon in his hands again and trying not to lose focus on it but neither on Caius in front of him.
And then he goes for the first strike, indicated by the less than smooth transition from the wheeling to being halted suddenly over his shoulder, but still moving afterwards with not too much clumsiness as he brings the top of the weapon over from that shoulder and towards Caius's neck, letting out a small rough sound as he does. ]
[Action]
But despite the way Red's expression firms and he readies himself for it, seeing the weapon in Caius's hand once he stops speaking, it reminds Red of back to the draft. Those people, with their larger wings and their blades, the first time he'd really seen them with the intent to kill. It looks heavy. Thick. Less so than the staff, but he knows its weight in his hands and the way it can hurt is different than his imagination.
Still. It makes his shoulders tense to think about being on the other side of the sword, and his lips press tighter together as he swallows. No; he can't lose his cool before even beginning.
His body is already warmed up from the training before. He has to remember this is just a training thing thankfully, and -- got to stop worrying. Just do it. So he takes another step back, the staff still held in both hands being brought to his side as he starts to turn it, slowly at first, but picking up the momentum with it as he remembers how to get into the rhythm of it. It's just for a few seconds really, gaining the feel for the weapon in his hands again and trying not to lose focus on it but neither on Caius in front of him.
And then he goes for the first strike, indicated by the less than smooth transition from the wheeling to being halted suddenly over his shoulder, but still moving afterwards with not too much clumsiness as he brings the top of the weapon over from that shoulder and towards Caius's neck, letting out a small rough sound as he does. ]