One….
Sword up, elbows adjusting through the movement, arms and blade cutting the the air as one; It made a beautiful sight for those who could appreciate it. Hesari bent his knees and twisted his fore-paw a to a right angle before driving the point down, but held back at the last second to propel it in a deep swoop, point pushing sand. He twisted his feet and twirled to face the other direction.

Two....
Hesari breathed deeply to prepare for the second stance. He jumped, sword still spinning, and placed his hand in the crook of his arm to brace it. As his hind-paws hit the sand, he ducked and twisted his paw so the sword handled faced out. Blade and wind brushed by over-head and he continued his dance. All the while, hind-paws dancing out a triangle, or box, or other shapes, marked by the rhythm given from onlookers outside the ring.

Three....
All of this to a drum beat. Each gliding movement of the Dridi dance wasn't rushed. It wasn't powered. It simply was. Simple. But expert. Hesari danced out the sun (This done with interwoven foot stomps and dipping the blade tip into the sand several times) and twirled the sword behind his back once, twice, three times....

Four....
Sweat beading heavily on his forehead, Hesari grimaced and twirled his tool into his hands and dashed two large and lumbered steps forward. Stopped. Danced the blade before his excited eyes and reverent expression. Danced back two steps... One jab, two jabs.

One... two... three finals beats of the drum
One last jab and he turned the blade upside down. And dropped it...

The blade fell for a second, then flew high, picked up and released by the space between his hind paw toes against the handle. Up it flew, twirling slightly against the faint east wind. The polished blade shone the stars back into Hesari's eyes.

This was perfect….
More perfect than any before

He was proud.
He knew his Jada's spirit was proud, may it follow the afterlife path…

He caught it right as the final drum beat echoed off the rocks and drove the point half-shaft deep into the sand.
Everything was done on tempo. No rush. No over exertion, but perfect.
And silence....

Eyes around him gleamed of excitement and wonder. By the chieftains beard, he wish he could have seen it. He wasn't a proud beast, but it felt good to succeed.

"You have done well, Hesari-Dewback. This honors you...
And this honors your Jada's spirit...."

ooc- Just you ya knows, this is just to get back into the movement and flow of forum writing. I have been out of it for a while, so I'm just kinda warming up. Any critiquing, please send guiltlessly. I will gladly accept it.

Anyone else wanting to join it, please do so. If you likewise wish for critiquing, please say so. All are peers here. Please treat it so.

This is also mostly for fun. I have no interest in story arcs, so bring a spare character. I have no vision for this thread, I have no point. Jump in, but reasonably.

Nice to see ya'll again.

ooc- What kind of animal is your character exactly?

Bic-
    The old ferret slinked forward and straightened up as best he could in his old age to peer straight into the eyes of the young swordsbeast.
"You have come a long way mah' son." He wheezed out, "You still have much to learn but until we find ourselves at Hellsgates we will always continue learning. From me, you can learn no more."
The ferret turned to the ring of onlookers and asked a question: "Beasts of the sword, do you find the one before you worthy of his blade?"
There was a brief silence before one piped in…

ooc- Someone jump in?! Maybe we could have a fight to test the worthiness of Hesari-Dewback.

-ooc- all open?
oh and yeah what IS it. mouse?

OOC- Well, when I wrote the post, I was thinking more along the lines of a mercenary otter… but not in a good crowd. Bad? Meh, I don't know. Has no moral instinct though. This is more of a tribe of misfits rather than family. And a Jada is a mentor... Not a father. Upon the Jada's passing, the apprentice picks up where he left off and avenges the death. Unless they died of natural causes. I that case, they quest so that the spirit makes its passage onto the next life...

Sorry if it is confusing.

OOC- That's fine. I just wanted to clarify. By "Mah son" I don't mean literal. I tried to keep it open ended. Anyone want to take the reigns of someone in the crowd?

"Beasts of the sword, do you find the one before you worthy of his blade?"

Khoba had a secret. It haunted him. It cursed in his face when he drew his sword. It spat at his feet when he saw his reflection. Sometimes, it taunted him…
    Sometimes it even dared him.
    The ferret drew his knife. It was a wearet knife; a crude, misshapen and flinty thing that was more the size of a sword in his paws. Most ferrets weren't big enough to carry such a weapon, but Khoba wielded with both pride and deadly precision.
    He stepped forward. In a deep voice, he called out in reply to the older ferret. "I am a beast of the sword and I find that this riverdog disgraces the ring and dishonors my kindred. I do not find him worthy."

OOC- Ahhh, thanks.

IC- Hesari's head spun around to meet the voice, but his mind spun way past that and couldn't find a focus. No… He could direct his sword at will, but not his pain. That stayed. Accomplishment and retrospect healed it bit by tiny bit, but insult and dishonor opened the wounds anew.
  The dishonor angered him so. Dishonor to those who had gained his respect. Dishonor to their beliefs, their standards, their wholeness. It was also dishonor to the dead…
  Hesari pivoted back to face the wizened ferret. "I 'ave failed, Gamesmaster." Sword returned to the dust, point down and Hesari knelt face to the pommel. More, he wanted to speak, but he held his tongue in his cheek for a rare moment and waited for a verdict.

The ferret turned and examined the otter. His honor had been challenged. The ferret knew that there was no cause for the claim of dishonor. Many beasts far less skilled had entered the ring and passed unchallenged. The true claim for dishonor was not the skill of the beast but the simple fact he was an otter.
"Hesari, the honor of your jada's spirit has been challenged. Do you feel honor his spirit or do you concede that you have failed?"

The otter furrowed his brow and rested his face to the pommel. Sweat beaded down and cut a wet trail on the blade, all the way down to the sand. Do I claim humility? Should I allow the duel of Honor? I could just walk away and accept banishment…
Realization struck him. "I do, sah. I 'onor with my effort and diligence. I 'onor with my 'onor. I 'onor with my every sword-stroke and 'e who challenges my Jada's 'onor, dis'onors me."
Pulling his sword from the dust, he stood tall and raised it's point to the air and swished it about. "Step forward and face my honor, coward! Face my honor and face your death-breath! And anybeast elses 'o sees my flounce as failure!"

The hulking ferret stepped toward the ring, shoving a spindly rat out of his way. The rat toppled snout-over-footpaw into the sand. Khoba flipped his huge knife in one paw and threatened Herasi with a deep, rumbling growl. "Careful who you call a coward, riverdog."
    He stepped into the ring like he owned it. "Challenge me an' risk a painful death, or test again another day. Perhaps we will find you worthy another time, should you show wisdom tonight."

Besides the scrawny rat's snifflings, all beasts were silent as a dew drop. The ferret had ground it's hind paws into the sand and eagerly awaited some kind of action. He carried an evil, sophic smile. It made Hesari shiver slightly with uncertainty. But how could he back down? This was a rite of Adulthood. There was a very real chance of banishment if he declined the fight. But was banishment better than death if he lost? He didn't want to kill a creature. That wasn't his way…
  It was rash of me to make that challenge… This beast knows it.
  "A fight to 'a death."
  His turmoil all but resolved…
  Hesari moved into stance one.

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