Should We Be Concerned? [OPEN]

[FirebrandPhlox]

Chess grinned widely as the other woman finally braced herself and the pillow properly. Attolia was a stick in the mud, sure, but she could be convinced to live a little at the goading of her wher, which suited Chess just fine.

"Alright, ya holdin' that pillow nice and tight like?" Chess asked eagerly. Kichsk was watching lazily from his spot, making sure nothing escalated. It seemed Chess was doing her best to befriend the loud strangers. If that was what she wanted, fine. Maybe more visitors to the weyr would help her with the excessive boredom.

"So ya hold yer hand like this, thumb on the outside," Chess explained as she walked through the steps of throwing a punch that her Pa had taught her. "Make sure ya plant yer front foot, gotta have a strong base. Then ya swing yer arm, puttin' yer weight behind it. Keep yer eyes open so ya don't miss yer target." She swung her arm forward as she explained, driving it into the pillow. She hit hard, but not with nearly as much force as she had when she punched Attolia for real.

She stepped out of her stance, still grinning. "Ya ready to try?" She asked eagerly, holding her arms out to take the pillow.

[nineofswords]

Attolia had long since perfected her poker face. She did not huff a sigh, nor did she roll her eyes like some petulant teen, no matter how much part of her desperately wanted to. She was holding the pillow, dammit, and she wished Chess would just get on with it or else give Attolia up as a lost cause, but she knew neither instance was particularly like. The woman did love to natter on.

Attolia watched as Chess broke down a punch for her, one eyebrow cocked, and it slowly crept higher the more tips and tricks the country girl added on. Attolia was simply supposed to remember all of that and emulate it perfectly after seeing and hearing it once? Hardly. But at least she had plenty of warning. She tensed as the punch came, but it truly didn't hurt. Huh. Maybe Chess did have more control than Attolia gave her credit for. That or the pillow was more padded than she'd realized.

Attolisk, seeing that Attolia was more or less playing nice moved towards Kichsk and practically threw himself on the ground near him, sprawling lazily. He let out a huge yawn. Glad they getting along, he told Kichsk. Was worried for minute, but knew when punches flew, would be okay. Fight sometime make thing better. When not making worse. But sometime make better. At least I find. He was not a violent wher, but some things couldn't be expressed appropriately with words. Sometimes a person had to let out all that pent up energy somehow, and sometimes doing that in an aggressive manner was the easiest way.

Attolia handed the pillow to Chess. "Yes, I believe I am ready to make an attempt," she said. She curled her fingers, making a point of keeping her thumb on the outside. She was overcorrecting, though, letting it stick out at the side of her fist. She stomped a foot down, then stared at her fist for a long moment. "This doesn't look like what you were doing," she said aloud, almost musing. She looked up at Chess, the barest hint of a frown on her face. "And what did you mean by putting my weight behind the swing? I was expecting you to throw yourself at me, but you stayed planted when you punched." Attolia had looked away out of reflex when the punch came, and had noticed that Chess' feet were firmly where she'd placed them.

Oh, this was absurd! Impossible, and worse, ridiculous to do in a dress!

[FirebrandPhlox]

Kichsk eyed the chatty wher warily. He was not one for many words himself, so Attolisk's desire for conversation was grating. He snorted. Good they get along. Maybe get rest now, he said, still keeping his eyes on the pair of young women. They were being friendly for now, but he didn't trust them to stay that way. Chess, as good as her intentions usually were, had a mouth on her and Attolia seemed the sort that could easily take a remark the wrong way.

"No, not like that," Chess said as she held up her own hand in a fist. "Yah hold it like this. Yer thumb's too far out."

Chess nodded as Attolia asked about the stance. "Yah want to lean into the punch. If yah just swing yer arm and nothin' else, yer not gonna have any force behind it. Yah gotta swing yer body too," she explained, swiveling her body at the hips. For a fancy lady, Attolia sure did care about throwing a punch correctly! Chess grinned widely at the other woman and braced with the pillow. "That make sense? Yah ready to give me yer best shot?"