Ol' Flint the Crow

An Elven Breakfast

...Staring at the elf's blank face in disgust, Bleak hollered, "Gods, why are you here?!"

"Master Rivlit wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready," Lori stated, hardly even moving her facial features. Glancing over to Samuel and the bird, she asked, "Having a sparring session, I see."

Grunting loudly, Flint apathetically replied, "Yeah..."

"Flint," Lori said as her face lifted up, inadvertently caused her chin to stick out proudly. "I may not have any training in the ways of the sword, but it seems to me that you are teaching the gentleman incorrectly."

Growling at the haughty elf, Bleak grumbled, "How would you know? You're not a fighter!"

"Exactly, that's what I was just explaining," the elf concurred. "However, I know the differences between the anatomy of a bird compared to that of a human, and what they are and are not physically capable of." Turing to the crow, Lori said, "Flint, you must understand that the man is unable to move as fluidly as you. His bones are a great deal denser than yours; so his combat should vary because of this."

As the bird's bill retracted into his frowning face, Samuel feared that Flint would soon become angry.

However, Flint instead clicked his wormy tongue once and grunted, "Perhaps you're right..."

Bleak's countenances suddenly fell as her lip curled into a tight lump of flesh. Glaring at the elf who stepped nearer to Samuel, the barmaid mumbled a few inaudible words that Samuel knew were rather rude and crude.

"May I?" Lori asked as she gestured to Samuel's weapon.

Rather glad to be free of it, the minstrel speedily handed it over her. Shaking it up and down in her palm to test its weight, Lori stood in front of the log that was at least four times her weight. She took a few slow practice swings as Samuel watched intently. Bleak, however, blew her nose, dismissing Lori's actions as that of a stupid child, mimicking a grownup.

Once the elf was finished with her tests, she bent both legs ever so slightly and then began. The first cut she made was on the tree's base, towards the left side. She immediately followed this up by retracting the blade, causing sawdust to fly up in the air. Now in front of her, she twirled the sword around and quickly struck the tree on the top right corner, with tremendous speed and agility. Next, she spun the weapon above her head and let it come crashing down directly in the center of the log. A satisfying cracking sound echoed throughout the forest as a gash appeared on the log's head.

"Very nice," Flint said as he clapped his wings together in a slow, impressed manner. "You picked that up rather quickly."

Leisurely giving the sword back to awestruck flute player, Lori tossed her hair away from her face, dotted with beads of sweat, and wrapped her hands behind her arched back. The astonished minstrel clenched the weapon firmly, gleaming at it with his gaping eyes. Bleak, on the other hand, gnashed her teeth and whispered something ghastly from her inflamed lips.

Answering Flint with her deadpan expression, Lori said, "You see. It's Simple body physics and how to use them to your advantage. The gentleman can actually be an excellent fighter if he is trained in the correct manner suited for him as a human rather than a bird. The proper combat style for him greatly differs from the way you fight, Flint. Since you have a smaller form and your wings give you a speed advantage, you have a unique fencing style. Obviously, a human is unable to do such things. I'm surprised that Miss Bleak did not think to tell you. Looking at you two for only a moment, it was self-evident to me. But I should not be too hard on her. Most others find it hard to notice such basic observations."

"How about you mind your damn business, you snooty elf?!" Bleak hissed.

Jolting his beak forward, Flint yelled at the bartender saying, "Stop acting like an ass Miss Bleak! Lori was only trying to help."