Dancing with the past

She lifted a brow with glee as the other girl giggled at her shoulder shimmy. She did it again for emphasis, her expressions playful and sly as she smirked and looked away then back again. Her claws scraped against the tank as she shifted her position.

Xina shrugged at Cele's question of what the story was back home. The firey girl flipped over onto her back and watched the other girl upside down as she filled Xina in on the true events. She couldn't imagine being separated from her father. Interesting how the land started looking like a reflection in a puddle from this position. The hard surface of her current bed was getting irritating. It did not make a soft lounge chair.

"Picnics?" Xina asked, flipping back over and shooting the girl a disgusted look. All she knew about picnics was that life and fighting wasn't one... "Well then! Maybe I can bring you home! We can spar and do all kinds of things! Wouldn't want to have any more boring picnics." She scoffed, leaping off the tank and landing on her feet. Her paw narrowly missed the edge of a sharp knife. She picked it up and looked down at the blade. Then aimed it at a fabric target a little ways away. She held it in both lip and paw. With a flick, she sent the knife sailing at the old fabric bag rustling in the wind. It missed.

"Fuck." She softly cursed under her breath and looked through the sparse grass for another knife. She found a longer skinnier one stuck in the treads of the old tank. She grabbed it, noted the blade was bent, and sent it flying at the canvas. This time she scored.... with the handle hitting the bag instead.

"Fucking wind. - Wanna try?" The wind was picking up some, "Maybe we can grab some of this cool shit and make some armor or something." She mused to the other girl with a wink.

"speech"