Winter nods. “Would you like to work on that, or something your not very good at?” Sorcha huffs. “That was the plan, but it physically hurts.. you know what, that doesn’t matter.” She smoothly unsheathes her sword and takes her position, making one last adjustment to his hands with the tip of the blade. She tilts her head. “Good enough to start with.” Asa dodges the stab and twists his sword out of his hand and she poises it at his throat.