bubbles

Brisk and chilly, Nirvana can't help herself. She can't bother herself with the intricacies that came with being social. Frankly, most days she can barely be assed to be polite. The battlefield was something she was grateful for, as it freed her from the typical pleasantries. No, this place came with its own set of rules, own set of social norms. She could arrive and she could fight.

As the dark creature closed the distance between them, Nirvana was light on her feet. Her ultraviolet gaze was intense, teeth already flashing to show against the backdrop of her dark pelt. Light. Light on her feet. A moving target would be more difficult to hit, and she'd lean into that. Her steps across the ground were quick, and the dance between them was delicate. Dust filling the air between them, obscuring her opponent for a brief moment. Nirvana blinked hard, clearing her vision as best she could. It's in this moment that he strikes-- a calculated move, one that would almost impress her had she been a spectator instead of a combatant. She's too slow to move out of the way entirely, instead catching the kick to the meaty part of her thigh. It would preserve the breath in her lungs, though it would certainly bruise, and knocks a bit of her balance as she continues the dance.

She chooses the moment that he's nearest to lunge forward, gathering as much power as she can in her hind legs before pushing off. A pounce, yes, but she swings wide with her bladed gauntlets as well. It was a quick flurry of limbs and blades, and then hopefully she'd be able to dance back to a comfortable distance. Always the dance, delicate as it was. If Nirvana had anything, it was her tenacity.
"Nirvana"