Thread: ≒ To the Scar in the Sky We March | Dragon Age Inquisition | sixlikesgore. ≓

Unfortunately, for the Seeker of Truth, the entire travel time back to Haven had been an unpleasant one. Despite usually wielding heavier weapons, and fighting for her life rather than to entertain their Inquisitor, the sparring match she'd taken part in had taken a lot out of her. Although they'd used wooden pieces, the soaked pieces of driftwood were a lot heavier than her body would've rathered, and given the fact that Cassandra simply didn't know how to hold herself back, she hadn't given her body a gentle ease into the spar. And with an opponent like Iron Bull, someone who was keen on giving her exactly what she dished out towards him, she was feeling it every step of the way back to Haven. And with every pulse of pain flaming within her muscles, implicating the bruises that would eventually surface, Cassandra's mind flamed with the intense heat of adrenaline, her thoughts overworking on the playful battle, recounting her mistakes. Once they'd reached the bridge to cross into Haven's village, Cassandra had let their Ambassador and Spymaster have at their newest armed company, retiring to her tent long enough to give herself a small rest. It didn't take long for her mind to push her back onto her feet, however, fumbling over the moves that Bull had so easily maneuvered around, or blocked. It was driving her up the wall, trying to imagine what the outcome of some of the moves would've been if she'd just ducked to the right, or thrown more of her weight into her left side as she swung her branch. Without a moving dummy that would fight in a way she was picturing in her minds eye, she was basically just metaphorically slashing her sword anyway. But it wasn't like she was about to ask one of Cullen's recruits if they'd be interested in playing pincushion for her frustrations. Regardless, the brunette manned herself with her sword once more, leaving her shield securely back in her tent. Instead of wielding it within her right hand, however, Cassandra had decided to switch her focus, and had equipped her left with the halt of her sword instead. Normally, the woman embraced her secondary hand as her offensive one, reserving her main hand for her shield. But after that spar, the most annoying blows she'd received - more so to her ego rather than her physical self - had been to her left side. As much as Cassandra used her shield for battle, her sword was a great factor in her blocking and parrying. So, with Iron Bull in mind, she went to work at testing her left arm as her main, her swings guided on that side rather than her usual right. She'd been so conversed in slashing at the poorly made training dummy, that she hadn't heard the crisp approaching footsteps embedding in the snow. At least, not until the woman had spun in her next slash, throwing her weight around as the blade connected with the dummy's neck. As she righted herself, back now facing the unfortunate test subject, her eyes now focused on the Qunari. For a moment, surprise lingered over her features, before her eyebrows pinched back together, her chest still heaving slightly in her armor from the exertion. Can I help- Thump. Glancing over her shoulder, the woman's expression softened a bit when her eyes came to rest on the head of the dummy, rolling to a slow stop in the snow. Grunting with annoyance, she lowered her arms, her head turning back to face the taller man before her, Cassandra's displeasure clearly written all over her face. Hopefully Haven's conditions are up to par with your Chargers' expectations. Because it was clearly starting to wear on hers.