Alone in the training room Abigail held her sword at her side, flooding into her mind was the memory of her practicing with her father. Wise words of his flooded her mind as she slowly gripped the hilt. "Just because you use a large weapon doesn't mean it has the disadvantage of space. Weapons can be used for more than just swinging the hilt, for a weapon this size can also be used at the blade." She slowly lowered her hand to gripping so that it was on the blade. She then began to spar with an invisible opponent using the sword as if it was a staff. Making sure one hand was close enough that it had a grip on a secondary hilt for her silos were. Memories flooded of how she took her father by surprise as she soon grabbed the hilt using the swords own weight to pull the hilt releasing the silos.
As she daydreamed he mimicked the movements that she had this memory pulling the hilt so the silos open. Aiming them at now on she clicked the firing button but nothing came free as she had taken the dust out. Pushing the hilt back in she let the silos recede back in to the sword. Now practicing by herself she swung the sword at the hill getting better with her movements, and then switches to the sword blade as her hilt and use the sword as if it was a hammer, minding that this practice caused her hands to become cut it was showing that she was not afraid to use the blade as a hilt.
She repeated these practices over and over and over again, she was getting much better at releasing the swords secret dust silos. These dust silos were the only advantage she had over most no one knew of them. For her weapon looked bland average nothing special didn't even shrink to make it more compact. Though she took the time in between spars with herself to tinker with her sword. Taking care of a sword that she forged herself created to impress her father.
But nothing made her more irritated then the thought that that's all her weapon had just the dust. She had plans for the sword some would think were a bit overkill, but that was something that she really seemed to do overkill things. While practicing she made a mental blueprint of how she would make the sword her own unique weapon. After taking a break after a three-hour session the bell for bedtime rang. The slow walk back to her room all she could think about was how could she create she wanted without raising an eye of the students around her, thinking that she was part of the White Fang. So many difficult things would have to be done next few years, what's next few months things looked up. Once back to her room she practiced thrusting the sword in place tell she burned off all the energy she had pent-up throughout the day. Slipping into bed she slept next to her sword cuddling as if it was a lover.
As she daydreamed he mimicked the movements that she had this memory pulling the hilt so the silos open. Aiming them at now on she clicked the firing button but nothing came free as she had taken the dust out. Pushing the hilt back in she let the silos recede back in to the sword. Now practicing by herself she swung the sword at the hill getting better with her movements, and then switches to the sword blade as her hilt and use the sword as if it was a hammer, minding that this practice caused her hands to become cut it was showing that she was not afraid to use the blade as a hilt.
She repeated these practices over and over and over again, she was getting much better at releasing the swords secret dust silos. These dust silos were the only advantage she had over most no one knew of them. For her weapon looked bland average nothing special didn't even shrink to make it more compact. Though she took the time in between spars with herself to tinker with her sword. Taking care of a sword that she forged herself created to impress her father.
But nothing made her more irritated then the thought that that's all her weapon had just the dust. She had plans for the sword some would think were a bit overkill, but that was something that she really seemed to do overkill things. While practicing she made a mental blueprint of how she would make the sword her own unique weapon. After taking a break after a three-hour session the bell for bedtime rang. The slow walk back to her room all she could think about was how could she create she wanted without raising an eye of the students around her, thinking that she was part of the White Fang. So many difficult things would have to be done next few years, what's next few months things looked up. Once back to her room she practiced thrusting the sword in place tell she burned off all the energy she had pent-up throughout the day. Slipping into bed she slept next to her sword cuddling as if it was a lover.
