Post by break on Aug 15, 2010 11:35:59 GMT -5
. If Galloway had been expecting to finish the wolf with that one backhanded stroke he would count himself amongst the brawny fools abundant in the wastes. Gods’ favor be with him, for Galloway had no such intentions. Practically before he’d even halted his charge was the she-wolf pouncing back up to play. The girl was grit and nails to the core, whatever she’d been through it was a good deal past what half the fools and wanderers endured over the course of Armageddon. If people were open books he imagined that this one would be a fine read, a best seller for sure.
. The vampire was admittedly put off that his vaulting grab had no effect. Or at least not an effect worthy of noting. Subsequent attacks only marginally more effective. There was something else to this game, an element of strategy that wasn’t to be beaten aside by continued barrages. If anything it seemed that would just drain his energy quicker. Not that he had anything to worry of becoming exhausted. Galloway wasn’t used to extended showdowns after so long apart from any organization; the majority of opponents were petty raiders with a chip on their shoulders. The old man found himself hoping he wasn’t too rusty. That belt knife looked willing to exploit such weakness.
. Galloway paced a bit away and stood resolutely. Conveying that he had no intentions of moving from the spot he’d settled into after the wolf cast out her taunt. From afar Galloway admired his work with the shovel and how quickly it was being undone. It wasn’t clever to let wounds heal like that in a battle with immortals. If you could get one hit in then it was your safest bet to land as many follow-ups as possible before the enemy has a chance to recover. You lose stamina much faster if your assailant isn’t giving you any time to regenerate.
. Hesitation was going to be costly, he could already tell. “I’ll give you a turn, Miss.” Galloway checked his thick nails offhandedly, just as un-phased as the she-wolf. It didn’t matter what they looked like. Both could consider the other one ready to kill. Galloway’s grip was loose on his shovel, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to counter with it. The reach advantage was significant enough. If he clenched till his knuckles were white he’d just be wasting strength and the fluid range of movement that was essential to a quick parry.
((Here's a shorter one. I considered going longer, but combat scenes are so much better with shorter posts.))
. The vampire was admittedly put off that his vaulting grab had no effect. Or at least not an effect worthy of noting. Subsequent attacks only marginally more effective. There was something else to this game, an element of strategy that wasn’t to be beaten aside by continued barrages. If anything it seemed that would just drain his energy quicker. Not that he had anything to worry of becoming exhausted. Galloway wasn’t used to extended showdowns after so long apart from any organization; the majority of opponents were petty raiders with a chip on their shoulders. The old man found himself hoping he wasn’t too rusty. That belt knife looked willing to exploit such weakness.
. Galloway paced a bit away and stood resolutely. Conveying that he had no intentions of moving from the spot he’d settled into after the wolf cast out her taunt. From afar Galloway admired his work with the shovel and how quickly it was being undone. It wasn’t clever to let wounds heal like that in a battle with immortals. If you could get one hit in then it was your safest bet to land as many follow-ups as possible before the enemy has a chance to recover. You lose stamina much faster if your assailant isn’t giving you any time to regenerate.
. Hesitation was going to be costly, he could already tell. “I’ll give you a turn, Miss.” Galloway checked his thick nails offhandedly, just as un-phased as the she-wolf. It didn’t matter what they looked like. Both could consider the other one ready to kill. Galloway’s grip was loose on his shovel, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to counter with it. The reach advantage was significant enough. If he clenched till his knuckles were white he’d just be wasting strength and the fluid range of movement that was essential to a quick parry.
((Here's a shorter one. I considered going longer, but combat scenes are so much better with shorter posts.))