I'll never let you die, he had said and it stuck to her mind like a loose fibre strand; free from restriction and sorely noticeable. She thought of it as nothing more than a jest, but knew good enough people to know that such promises were not made in vain. So what did he mean? Surely it was him she needed to protect from death seeing as she was more adept at combat than him. Right?
Indeed, she deduced as Dwayne's fist arced awkwardly in front of her, narrowly missing her shoulder and drawing him into a forward stumble. Ivy effortlessly moved to Dwayne's left, turning as she did so, and watched him tumble to the ground.
"Again?" She marveled. That was the sixth time he had tripped over the momentum of his own fist.
"Again," Dwayne cited, his chest aching where it lay on the ground. He the turned over to lay supine, his amethyst eyes bright and alert as he looked up at Ivy, "But I am improving. Right?"