(Untitled)

[a_lioness]

Alanna's decision to hold her morning Shang practice by the Milliways lake can be boiled down to one simple fact: it isn't raining here. The obvious extension of this is that it is raining in Tortall, great big buckets of the stuff, soaking through even the thickest cloaks and rushes, forming inconvenient puddles of questionable depth and

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[mnt_raph]

[a_lioness]

Shang is nowhere near as effortless as Liam always made it look. Balance, once lost, is not easily regained. Raph screams; Alanna nearly topples over in the middle of a kick.

Her frustration is equally vocal, though the snarl she directs over her shoulder quickly transforms into a snort when she catches sight of Raph.

"Look who had enough sense to come in out of the rain."

[mnt_raph]

[a_lioness]

Alanna watches.

Why not.

"No loin cloth?" she asks, mildly.

Eyebrow arched, she turns back around and does the kick again, correctly this time.