[ Turning to meet Guts' gaze from over his shoulder, Jaime frowns. ] I've never swung a blow I don't intend to land. [ Never mind the fact that that had been before he'd lost all sense of grace with the loss of his hand. It doesn't count, he thinks, when you don't know how to use the hand you're using.
But he shuts his eyes again, doing the tail end of his earlier manoeuvres; at a sideways slash his sword starts to light up again, but rather than push it all the way he ceases just when he feels a strange sort of tingling between his fingertips and the hilt of his blade.
Widow's Wail glows a pretty green, similar to the Jewel that's in his pocket. In the dim light of a pre-sunrise morning, Jaime stares at it, the lights contouring the angles of his face in a strange play of light and shadow.
He turns on his heel to show it to Guts. That brief movement, no matter how subtle, has the light shivering, blurring, before it steadies again. ]
Like this. [ It ought to sound like a question, but pride makes Jaime say it like a statement. ]
no subject
But he shuts his eyes again, doing the tail end of his earlier manoeuvres; at a sideways slash his sword starts to light up again, but rather than push it all the way he ceases just when he feels a strange sort of tingling between his fingertips and the hilt of his blade.
Widow's Wail glows a pretty green, similar to the Jewel that's in his pocket. In the dim light of a pre-sunrise morning, Jaime stares at it, the lights contouring the angles of his face in a strange play of light and shadow.
He turns on his heel to show it to Guts. That brief movement, no matter how subtle, has the light shivering, blurring, before it steadies again. ]
Like this. [ It ought to sound like a question, but pride makes Jaime say it like a statement. ]