[ Whatever you do, Cloud. No matter what happens, Cloud. Don't dig into your deeper arsenal. Don't dig into your lethal techniques... Perhaps it's the very root of the man beneath the surface, but the man that'd warned Dain before he cast his magic may very well be responsible for the reason he doesn't resort to his Limit Breaks tonight. It's a small little victory...regardless of the condition these two wind up in as Dain dashes forward. Like a dark star shooting towards him, Cloud doesn't even have time to fall back into a counterstance.
The one disadvantage of finding near-mindlessly as he has been? He lacks the focus. He resorts to instinct. And as dangerous as his fighting instinct was? It also meant that he had to preemptively prepare for Dain's attacks. Which meant he needed to think. And thinking meant that his lust for hunting would wane. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want this to stop. So instead, he's left to reel, feet skidding across the pavement as he's taken aback by the power that his once companion is exuding. He's sparred with him before...
But was this just another level of this man's strength he buries beneath such a reserved front? It's enough that, given the weight of his sword and no matter how fast he may be able to block some of them? He's not so quick in this condition to halt them all. Not when his magical sword is capable of breaching through. He flinches, gritting his teeth through the pain as the man draws blood with his grazing strikes. But he doesn't falter further, instead staying in Dain's space as he strikes back, the sound of steel crying as their weapons clash amidst this dance filling the air beneath this moonless sky.
Only to loose his grip on his Buster Sword to free a clawed hand up, lunging forward after a parry in an attempt to clutch the man's face directly. If he's successful? He's going to practically lunge into him and slam him into the ground. It's feral. It's dirty. It's unbecoming of a swordsman of his skill. But he doesn't care. He wants blood. He wants this hunt to end. ]
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The one disadvantage of finding near-mindlessly as he has been? He lacks the focus. He resorts to instinct. And as dangerous as his fighting instinct was? It also meant that he had to preemptively prepare for Dain's attacks. Which meant he needed to think. And thinking meant that his lust for hunting would wane. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want this to stop. So instead, he's left to reel, feet skidding across the pavement as he's taken aback by the power that his once companion is exuding. He's sparred with him before...
But was this just another level of this man's strength he buries beneath such a reserved front? It's enough that, given the weight of his sword and no matter how fast he may be able to block some of them? He's not so quick in this condition to halt them all. Not when his magical sword is capable of breaching through. He flinches, gritting his teeth through the pain as the man draws blood with his grazing strikes. But he doesn't falter further, instead staying in Dain's space as he strikes back, the sound of steel crying as their weapons clash amidst this dance filling the air beneath this moonless sky.
Only to loose his grip on his Buster Sword to free a clawed hand up, lunging forward after a parry in an attempt to clutch the man's face directly. If he's successful? He's going to practically lunge into him and slam him into the ground. It's feral. It's dirty. It's unbecoming of a swordsman of his skill. But he doesn't care. He wants blood. He wants this hunt to end. ]