OoC: Wow, Mel, you're really good at describing battle scenes! Sorry I took so long with this one.
BiC: Bleo Leonus planted his sabres firmly in the fertile earth, inbetween the cracks of the stone alleyway. He let out a long, low sigh and closed his eyes. Mordecai watched intently as the cat breathed in the salty sea breaze. There was a moment of intense silence in which the two battle-hardened warriors, far from their homes and weak from fighting, were content to be at peace. They listened to the sounds of the ocean and of the morning as it slowly enticed the harbour out of sleep.
“I do not wish to fight one such as you,” said Bleo in a deep confirming voice, opening his eyes to stare piercingly at Mordecai. The man narrowed his eyes at the cat and opened his mouth as if to speak. No words came, as usual, just a low grunt that signified some level of agreement.
“You have suffered, I know,” continued Bleo, “I can see it in your eyes. Yes, a man’s eyes dictate his life without clouding truths or secrets.” Bleo sat down and crossed his legs, looking past Mordecai to the end of the alley where a sliver of sea was visible.
“You have fought for what . . . I do not know. You are running from . . . something. Gods, why won’t you speak to me?” Bleo looked up at Mordecai once again, “I too have abandoned those around me. I left my homeworld long ago to come here. To a place where brigands and warriors alike are worshipped like heroes . . .” and here Bleo trailed off.
Mordecai remained standing, hands loose at his side, hooked on the small feline’s every word.
“. . . and you? What were you doing out after curfew? Why would you abuse the trust that our last safe-haven on earth has given us? We are blessed with a home and food and honour! I just don’t know what could have compelled you to leave and come out here.”
Mordecai let out a long low breath and shifted the weight in his feet. There was a glimmer of recognition somewhere on his face but was yet to faint to place. Bleo followed the expression with his eyes, silently judging.
“You and I are more alike than you know,” he muttered. “But,” (Bleo got to his feet), “We must fight for the honour that we owe each other.”
Mordecai flinched, but quickly regained his battle stance, ready for battle. Bleo, with a great heave, pulled his swords from the dry earth. They were ready to fight, but there was a new understanding, a new recognition between the two fighters. As though they were no longer fighting to win.
“Come, warrior,” said Bleo with a twinkle in his eye, “Let us take this to the sands!” The corners of Mordecai’s lips curled ever so slightly and then he was off, racing down the alleyway and out onto the beach where the sun was dispatching its first rays across the glimmering ocean. The sea water lapped at the shores complacently as Bleo bounded after him. The two fighters, vastly dis-proportionate, fought their way up and down the sands. The chink of blades drowned out by the sounds of the sea.
OoC: Over to you! Not quite sure what to do with it now, but I know you'll think of something
