Not now? What did this older gentleman mean not now? It was very important for her to know someone’s name. She could not describe someone to another by their scent. What was she to say exactly? Tell him that she was looking for a rough sounding man that smells like iron and bitterness? She wouldn’t be able to see the person’s expression.. But she had an idea. And by an idea… she really wasn’t sure anymore. But it must be very unkind. [color=salmon]“Yes. Now. A name is your face, and body to a blind woman.”[/color]

She politely refrained from responding to Leouric, and only spared him a look before turning her head onto the sound of numerous feet pounding the muck. Among the barking and cawing of voices, the woman smelled a familiar scent. A drunken beard with legs, one of the companions to come. From the sound of it, he was of this shanty town’s guard. Though one question did arise. [color=salmon]“What do I drop? I am unarmed.”
[/color]
She remained still… waiting for the situation to disarm its self. But making no assumptions. While her sense of smell was partially blocked by a horse in rut, her ears could hear it all. The fast beating of hearts. The tightening of fingers that turned their knuckles white. The splintering of wood. And then finally, the sound of an object whirling in the air. [color=salmon]“DOWN!”[/color] she barked, though she did not move. The sound of the weapon was slowly growing softer, not louder. It was not heading towards her.

It happened quickly. The metalic scent of blood. The sound of a compressing rib cage. Raux huffed a breath of air as she pulled a hand up to her own muzzle. The thumb snaked its way under the wrappings of her blindfold and pulled it back down over her useless eyes. Nothing approached her, and that was fine. But the confusion of sounds and the smell of the horse made things particularly… blurry for the monk.

But. There was something she was able to pick up on. Sounds of soft footsteps with a heart beat that did not match. A sneaky someone? Yes indeed. It seems that the one known as sneak blood was casually making his way around in the confusion. Then he drew in closer with his eyes settled on Reed.  And closer… and closer.

The blind monk was not having it. Her staff was now taken in both hands and raised up from the ground, the bunt now hovering just closer as she quickly closed the distance. Before the man can get in striking range, she released the quarterstaff with one hand, and gave the bottom of the shaft a kick.

The weapon spun in her hand and planted an end firmly into the male’s collar bone. Feeling the resistance, she gave a hard shove to force him back and stepped forward. Her ears flicked when she heard an arm raised and metal ringing as it was flipped caught by the blade. She stepped to the side quickly and flicked her woolen cloak upwards.

A dagger met the heavy cloth pommel first with an audible puft, and bounced harmlessly towards the ground.
The cloak was now slown over her shoulder allowed to wrap around her neck to raise it out of the way of most of her body. And consequently showing off the scratched up and used metal plates that lined the side of her arm. And of course the worn but hard fighting gloves that covered her fist. Some areas of it stained black with old blood that periodic washing could not remove.

She spun her quarterstaff before herself, and allowed a slight embalance of weight to carry the long rod down it’s own length over her hand. When she felt the first signs of her hand nearing the end, she grabbed hold and allowed the momentum to carry it through the air and finally clapping down across her own shoulders.

[color=salmon]“Quiet steps for a human who walks with brutes,”[/color] her voice rang softly, though now there was a rough edge to her tone. The male was in no mood for talking. His eyes glanced to his own weapon, then the bandage across the womans eyes.

Chancing his luck he charged. The weapon spun delicately in his fingers and he made a slash. The monk responded with stepping asside, her foot planting on his second dagger to hold it to the ground. Now closer, she could hear the weapon spin again and rise up. She tilted her head thoughtfully, finding it odd that the weapon was posed so high… when he was so far away.

Her toe wiggled feeling the edge of the dagger under her sole. It was sharp, had a few nicks in the metal that showed off use. The man was no fool it seemed. He wants his knife back, she concluded.

She allowed him to come, and when she heard a knee hit the mud she lifted her foot, and gave a pre-emptive swing. The loud crack of bone meeting bone filled the air as the thief’s arm bent unnaturally around her leg like a wrapping. The man growled out in distress. 

The kick continued through, and the limb now acting as a rope drug the man along for the ride a short ways till it managed to get it’s self free. The leg raised up in the air as the monk spun her staff once more. This time it flipped through the air and tucked underneath the handling arm. The other one reached out towards the ground as her body tipped over in an overbalance.

She caught herself and allowed the momentum of the kick to swing her body about. She popped off her hand, landed on the other  and continued the spin half way till the back of her leg met the back of the other’s neck. The limb quickly clamped down, the other locking her paw behind its knee - creating a vice.

The male gasped as her weight now bore down on him. His neck would have been broken if she didn’t plant a hand to catch herself. But the way she was squeezing, it was likely she had some intent to kill him. His legs kicked at the dirt, and his one good hand scratched and pulled at her fur.

[color=salmon]“It is a shame,” [/color]She mused, her head tilting thoughtfully. Her tone was a cocktale of grim humor and a small pinch of sorrow for a man she barely knew. Her ears were flicking, searching for anyone who may draw near. [color=salmon]“There was a good man that wished to die with his head between a woman’s thighs, I was unable to provide that wish in time. I am sure this is not what he meant, but what about you?”[/color] As if to drive the point further, she rolled to her side, her substantially larger weight easily flipping the man to his side. Now his legs kicked at the air as she squeezed as to drive a point. His face turning red and his eyes bulging. Though she had no intentions of killing him. She was just keeping him busy for now, playing with her pray. Like a house cat may toy with a captured mouse.