Faster
Stronger
Arveion swirled on his feet when the man lunged at him, both their sticks clashing together. He didn't waste any time waiting for him to recover, immediately slashing at his feet, and doubling him over onto the floor.
Faster.
He stood over him, pointing the stick at his face, breathing heavily, his chest heaving and hair dripping with sweat. "Again, another round." He growled to which the man sighed, "Come on man, we've already gone about six rounds. You said that last time."
"Another round!" He snapped, his eyes written in flames, he needed to be stronger, he had to be.
Pathetic.
He needed more, he wanted more, though he was tired, his limbs sore from all the training he couldn't stop there.
The man got up, "Geez man an—"
