Clans weren't a bad thing....Amaya had to tell herself that every time she came here.
The Torano made this place, made it open for all to train here. They were well-known to say the least...and the academy was held here, in which Amaya had trained in for a few years.
But it all seemed wrong. Her body recoiled at the thought of being within another clan's home, and seeing anyone gloat or brag about being in one made her feel an unbridled anger and resentment that no child should ever experience.
So she always took it out on training dummies.Her long blade glimmers and thrums with chakra as she holds it in front of her, pointing it towards a training dummy filled with sand. "Blade goes in, guts come out. That's easy to understand." She mutters to herself before taking a small breath.
Then, with a single step forward, she slashes a the dummy with a satisfying 'fwing' of ringing metal as it meets the wooden support from within the dummy.
She turns on her heel and repeats the slash, moving around the dummy in a full-body exercise without a care in the world. When she did this, her mind cleared. She could forget about the night terrors, the drugs that only served to calm her nerves and dull her mind, everything.
But like all good things, it was eventually over. All that remained of the training tool by the time she was done was a pile of sand and a loose sack hanging off of a wooden post.
And so, the girl left. To do what exactly? Who knows.
[WC: 270. MFT]
The Torano made this place, made it open for all to train here. They were well-known to say the least...and the academy was held here, in which Amaya had trained in for a few years.
But it all seemed wrong. Her body recoiled at the thought of being within another clan's home, and seeing anyone gloat or brag about being in one made her feel an unbridled anger and resentment that no child should ever experience.
So she always took it out on training dummies.Her long blade glimmers and thrums with chakra as she holds it in front of her, pointing it towards a training dummy filled with sand. "Blade goes in, guts come out. That's easy to understand." She mutters to herself before taking a small breath.
Then, with a single step forward, she slashes a the dummy with a satisfying 'fwing' of ringing metal as it meets the wooden support from within the dummy.
She turns on her heel and repeats the slash, moving around the dummy in a full-body exercise without a care in the world. When she did this, her mind cleared. She could forget about the night terrors, the drugs that only served to calm her nerves and dull her mind, everything.
But like all good things, it was eventually over. All that remained of the training tool by the time she was done was a pile of sand and a loose sack hanging off of a wooden post.
And so, the girl left. To do what exactly? Who knows.
[WC: 270. MFT]