Instantly her mind clicked back to their first lesson, when Castiel had painstakingly taught her the proper terminology, and she automatically raised the sword in front of her. Making sure to keep it up so it was guarding her right shoulder, she waited for him to attack.
The moment he was upon her - and boy, was she grateful he always kept in mind that she could not move as quickly as he could - she raised the weapon above her head and turned it horizontal. As soon as he'd connected, she immediately shifted so that the blade was now in front of her opposite shoulder. Then it was just a matter of pointing the sword downward to defend her gut then further still for her leg, only to return to her original stance and begin anew.
This was the part she'd really been working on, during her spare time. Trying to make the sword move as smoothly as possible while training her muscles to recognize each position and hold them firm. There wasn't room for error when it came to this stuff. An inch or two off center and it could, in a real battle, end badly for her. So every chance she'd had, she'd gone through the motions much like a cheerleader practicing a routine. When cooking breakfast, the spatula was her "sword". When walking down the street, it was a stick. Anywhere, any time, even without something to fill in for the weapon, she'd practiced until she could do the moves in her sleep.
"You know," she commented idly, only slightly breathless and making sure not to miss her mark as she spoke, "it might not be a bad idea for my dad to learn some of this kind of stuff, too. Or at least some kind of way to defend himself in case..." She had no way to finish that, not without risking spilling Adam's proverbial beans. Seriously. That kid had better speak up soon. She swept aside his blade, using her own blade to push his away before returning to her on guard stance. "Well, just in case it's ever needed."
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The moment he was upon her - and boy, was she grateful he always kept in mind that she could not move as quickly as he could - she raised the weapon above her head and turned it horizontal. As soon as he'd connected, she immediately shifted so that the blade was now in front of her opposite shoulder. Then it was just a matter of pointing the sword downward to defend her gut then further still for her leg, only to return to her original stance and begin anew.
This was the part she'd really been working on, during her spare time. Trying to make the sword move as smoothly as possible while training her muscles to recognize each position and hold them firm. There wasn't room for error when it came to this stuff. An inch or two off center and it could, in a real battle, end badly for her. So every chance she'd had, she'd gone through the motions much like a cheerleader practicing a routine. When cooking breakfast, the spatula was her "sword". When walking down the street, it was a stick. Anywhere, any time, even without something to fill in for the weapon, she'd practiced until she could do the moves in her sleep.
"You know," she commented idly, only slightly breathless and making sure not to miss her mark as she spoke, "it might not be a bad idea for my dad to learn some of this kind of stuff, too. Or at least some kind of way to defend himself in case..." She had no way to finish that, not without risking spilling Adam's proverbial beans. Seriously. That kid had better speak up soon. She swept aside his blade, using her own blade to push his away before returning to her on guard stance. "Well, just in case it's ever needed."
Not the best of reasons but it would have to do.