" I don't s'ppose you'd ever perform in my pit, huh... " A sharp grin is leveled at the woman, a piece of dried sweetgrass hanging from his mouth. " Think you're too good for us? " ( @wolfenisms )
“Battle is no performance,” Irelia corrects him. “Dancing with ribbons and dancing with blades are two different forms of art... and you will never convince me to bring my family’s steps to your baleful pits.”
As if to further push her point, Irelia places a hand on the hilt of her blade, end pointed downwards, shielding them from Sett. He's wearing that toothy grin again, the one that would appear in her dreams every now and then. What an inconvenience.
“Some of your professed ‘aces’ wouldn’t be able to keep up with my guards for even a minute,” Irelia says, jabbing back at him. “I hope the difference between them is nowhere close compared to a match between the two of us.”