{our voices shook hands} Meghan

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well died saying something but didn't mean it
everyone's life ends but no one ever completes it
dry or wet ice, they both melt and you're equally cheated
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Growin' up with more siblings than I could count, I'd had my fair share of fighting practice. Most of that was hand-to-hand, like when one of us would take something of the other's and it would come down to a full-out brawling match to decide who earned possession, or when one of them would make fun of Pyrian because he couldn't hear the insult and I would have to stick my fist in their face to teach them a lesson. So I had that experience, at least. Weapons, though—now those were a different story. I guess I was pretty good with my hands from years of dealing with fire, so I could manage the smaller, lighter ones, but when it came to the heavy ones my upper body strength was definitely not something to shout about. I would need to do a hell of a lot more weightlifting if I was even going to contend with some of the monsters that were supposed to be my competitors.

One morning I decided to practice swinging an axe, and after about five minutes I deduced that the real battle was with the weapon itself, rather than the person I'd be trying to use it on. I could lift it, but my arms shook, and when I brought it down on the training dummy it made nothing more than a feeble scratch. Over and over I tried, bringing it over my head, swinging, and pulling back, until finally I was able to connect with the places I aimed for, almost. I was feelin' pretty proud of myself—tiny little Gypsy Keeni, holdin' her own with an axe almost bigger than her—and then I saw one of the monsters I'd been referring to a few feet away, clearly just about ready to show me up.

He was big and rough-looking, and his training suit told me he was from Two. A Career, probably, here to stomp all over the weird little girl from Six. I scowled at him, hoping he would see, hoping he would get the message and realize that I wasn't scared of him, not one bit. You may have strength and size but I've got fire on my side, and that could tear you to shreds any day. Angrily I turned to swing my axe one more time, but because I wasn't focusing too hard I nearly missed the dummy entirely; the blade only brushed its side. Pathetic. Shrugging off my failure and deciding I was in the mood for a little provocation, I scampered closer to the massive brute and crossed my arms, axe dangling from my grasp. "Hey, you! If I wanted a show I would've asked for it, y'know."