The curse was sharp and thick with frustration, accented by the muffled impact of wood meeting the forest floor. Ashanalera caught the falling staff before it could fall further, Why - why - did she continue to slip? The skill was simple by her own standards, moving the staff in a rapid circle above her head while allowing her body to do the same towards an adversary. When done properly, the staff’s end would move downwards to strike the ground and permit the casting of her choice. Executing this while turning to the right was simple enough, something she had done many times.
But reverse the action, and it became far from simple. Over a hour had passed, a hour filled with slips, missteps - nothing she was proud of.
Ashanalera let out a slow, frustrated sigh and gave herself a moment to sit down, her back pressed against the base of a wide tree. She had come out here to clear her head, something she and Dagna had both needed. The work on Isalasanda’s arm had become the focus of their days, and while Dagna was never one to complain, Ashanalera had not been able to ignore the heaviness in the dwarven girl’s eyes. They had parted company to rest, and Ashanalera’s idea of rest involved, at the moment, whirling her staff through the forest air. Her mind was far too alert, too awake, to permit rest now.
Laying the staff beside her outstretched legs, Ashanalera leaned forward to manipulate the laces of her boots. She made short work of the pair, toeing them off before standing again. Exhaling slowly, her head tilted back to bring her eyes skywards.
“Ir tel'him.” ( “I’m me again.” )
Almost immediately, the tension lessened in her shoulders and upper back. Few things relaxed Ashanalera the way being in the forest did, and while she was somewhat teased for it ( particularly by Revassan ), she preferred to be barefoot. Her toes curled softly into the cool grass, and the stress continued to melt away. This was what she preferred, and this is how she felt best.
Moments later, Ashanalera lowered her head and slowly opened her eyes. Gone was the strain pulling her muscles taut, and her heartbeat slowed to a more regular pattern. She was no good to Dagna - or Isalasanda - in her previous state, but now - now this was much better,
Leaning down, she collected the staff in both hands. The weight was familiar and welcome, as if it were an extension of herself. Nudging her boots to the side with a bare foot, she took up an offensive stance once more.
