Yue has never held a real sword before. Of course she hasn't! Who would have given her one? The villagers have no need of weapons except to chase off the occasional too-bold animal, and a stick is much better for that than a sword, and easier to get to boot. Not to mention... well, haha, this is funny, see? You're gonna laugh when you hear this. But, you know, haha, one time Biao Biao asked her to help him chop some firewood, and um... she, haha, she made it as far as the backswing before she almost took his foot off. Yue has no business holding anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife, that's for sure. 

And yet, here she is holding this gorgeous masterpiece of a blade. And it must be a masterpiece, this sword, because it's so obviously Hyra's. How else could it be so beautiful even though it's so bare and unadorned? A-and speaking of bare and unadorned, wouldn't Hyra look just... eep! No! Oh no oh no! Don't think about it, Yue! Don't let your mind wander! Stay focused on the here and the (image of those taut leathers all carelessly discarded and crumpled on the rocks. The spray of the waterfall soaking that quicksilver hair until it clings to the smooth skin like richest cream on her back, standing there in the water just as brazen as can be with that precious little smirk on her face, all of her lit only by the moonlight and...) now!

It's Hyra's sword in her hand. Precious, irreplaceable treasure. The weight of it shocks her. It's nothing at all like her silly, wooden thing, the one she carved and decorated and spent so many hours practicing with even though it felt so silly to do, just because it made her feel more centered. She'd always thought that maybe other swords would feel the same. Maybe balanced differently, or shapely and curved where hers was so straight and simple, but nothing like this. The weight of the blade drags her wrist down toward the ground, like it's pulling her toward Hyra and the battle she's fighting. The blade shines brilliantly around the sapphires and the length of the blade, but around the edges it seems positively dull. Is that right? Is that how such a thing should be? Yue brushes it with her finger, and nearly drops the sword with a frightened yelp as it splits her fingertip open so quickly that the pain doesn't come until after the blood. She whimpers and sticks the wounded finger in her mouth to suck on it. Her feet carry her unconsciously higher into the sky. 

But even this, and the shiver of fright that's rooted somewhere in her stomach and keeps sending shivers and trembles all through her body whenever it pleases can't dull the look of absolute wonderment that's shining in her eyes. Who could have ever thought that she, silly little [i]Yue[/i] of all people, would live to see a grand battle? This belongs to the poems, and yet... all for her! For her! Look at the way Hyra moves, like she's made of light as she bends and twists and twirls her way through the air in her wonderfully defiant dance that sends demons toppling this way and that without even striking a blow!

Even from here, the curve of her back is something worthy of all the art forms known to man. If she could, Yue would bring a painter here, and a songstress, a sculptor, a woodcarver, a, a, a... well, she just, a sight like this should be worshipped, y'know? What's an awkward, lonely village girl supposed to do to show reverence to those thighs and the sinewy muscles that pump them so beautifully you'd think she was born running? All she's got are her silly sunstones and the clothes on her back, and surely [i]those[/i] aren't worth the treasures of Hyra's perfect fighting form? 

Yue squeaks, maybe with fright, maybe with delight, maybe just because noises have to come bursting out of her poor overwhelmed heart right now, as she watches Hyra fly and fight and fly. Her arms have that bow bent back with perfect form (surely, yes? She can't imagine anyone could make it look better), and yet, and yet... she never shoots. Why doesn't she let it go? Obviously, because she is a huntress to her core and she won't release that legendary arrow until the shot presents itself that will bring down her foe once and for all with a single strike! Oh gosh! It's so, it's so...

So romantic! How's she supposed to pay this back? Well, she could, she should... in songs, fair maidens (ha! as if!) pay back beautiful warriors (yes yes yes yes definitely yes) with their hearts. And their lips. Yue's are clumsy, b-b-b-b-but maybe if she touched them to those weary muscles after the glory was won, she could, oh! Oh gosh! Oh no oh no oh no oh no!!

Yue's face flushes fever-hot, redder than a pomegranate. She buries her face in her hands (sword hilt and all!) and shyly twists about in the air, floating higher and higher on a string of fantasies without clear shape or purpose. This is a dream. It has to be a dream. She's going to wake up in the morning to Kat's hungry whining and she'll be snuggled up inside her bed just the same as always, just her and her plants and her precious furry friends, nothing different at all just you wait and see, and...

And it'll all be so. So disappointing. Is that fair? She's not a brave warrior-maiden or a special daughter of destiny. She's not a secret keeper of the Zhenren Arts or a fairy or some kind of secret princess. And she's happy with her lot in life, she is! So is it really right for her to hope that this is real? Is it ok to want to be caught up here on the edge of an adventure and get to see it all for herself?