Blades clashed as sparks flew in the small training arena, two figures dancing with their blades as they tried to get a one-up over the other. One dodge, a jump, parry, back-swing, the dance continued before they clashed once more and a small pulse went through the air at the sheer intensity of the strength behind the blades, sending both wielders sliding through the dirt.
Jarod wore a determined smirk on his face as he fell to a stop, his blade being held in his right hand in a reverse grip, the sharp end of the sword dulled slightly due to the numerous times it had met his opponent's blade.
Arlyn also wore a competitive smirk, her chest going up and down as she breathed slightly heavier than usual. Her blade had the same dull edge as Jarod's, her sparring partner being stronger than she had remembered.
