((Gah. Fyne))
The sound of wood crashing on wood rang from a distant field. All dirt, nothing biotic to be seen...immediately, that is. At first glance it may have been seen as boring, were it not for two figures sparring on one side of it, a river flanking them on one side, a lone oak tree casting his withered shadow on the other.
One such figures was a female. Tall for her approxomate age, lithe and agile. She blocked the blows of the boys staff with her own, beating him back as they circled, watching for a slip-up in the deep, rich dirt. Her dark hair shimmered underneath the harsh sun of the afternoon, matted across her forhead, neck, and cheeks with salty sweat and dirt.
The red-headed boy she fought looked remarkably the same; although his facial features and build differed greatly, he wore the same determined ex
pression as she. Each focused on their goal: to defeat the other and claim victory.
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