[ Neither of the Lancers look particularly perturbed by the fact that they're blocked in, if only because they had no intention of running away in the first place. They both hazard a glance towards their respective Masters, before they come to the same conclusion: ]
Fine.
[ Echoed in smooth tenors, one with slight gravel in anticipation for the fight, the other a low whistle to signal his readiness. Twin red spears position themselves in combat motion, and though both parties are outwardly calm, it's not difficult to tell see the cold indignance that flows under their collective composure.
If Archer thinks that either of them are going to relinquish their Masters on a whim, he's spectacularly misinformed.
Predictably, it's Cu that moves first, slicing through the first step of wind resistance with his spear to get a head start, aiming a wide arc at his enemy's head. ]
no subject
Fine.
[ Echoed in smooth tenors, one with slight gravel in anticipation for the fight, the other a low whistle to signal his readiness. Twin red spears position themselves in combat motion, and though both parties are outwardly calm, it's not difficult to tell see the cold indignance that flows under their collective composure.
If Archer thinks that either of them are going to relinquish their Masters on a whim, he's spectacularly misinformed.
Predictably, it's Cu that moves first, slicing through the first step of wind resistance with his spear to get a head start, aiming a wide arc at his enemy's head. ]