The others seemed as though they had no idea what he was referring to. Even Lasha herself seemed not to know. She hardly let her expression shift, as Oliver deftly rolled his shoulder to let the blade fly over the top of it.
He released a hand from his own sword, and reached out, now that she was in close, to gently pat her on her head. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to point out the weaknesses in her defence. She frowned, taking a step back, acknowledging that she'd lost. It was an improvement in attitude from the previous day, where she'd been so determined to hit him that she'd ignored all his attempts at decency.
She ran in again, her attack style furious. He could certainly imagine such a thing at the head of a cavalry charge. In the hands of a brawny man, this attack style would certainly be ruthless.
It was no wonder she was lacking, really. This wasn't who she was.
