[ Sometimes, there just isn't anything to talk about in a show of skill. Or what would be skill, with time. His eyes are fast on the whip as it unfurls from her arm, his instincts going alight in his nerves, just below the surface of his skin. It cracks the air below him, measured, and Allelujah's foot slips back as he moves to accommodate the speed of it. In the same breath, his stance sets, heel anchored, and his shield tilts to take the hit in a clang of leather hitting metal.
His expression is genuine, a bit unreadable as he keeps his shield at the ready, not allowing his guard to fall just because he's met her attack. A barrier it may be, but it looks malleable in his hands. Now, Allelujah similarly regards the whip as an extension of Caren's body, rather than just a weapon.
Allelujah remains still, perhaps a little cautious, but also gauging. ]
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His expression is genuine, a bit unreadable as he keeps his shield at the ready, not allowing his guard to fall just because he's met her attack. A barrier it may be, but it looks malleable in his hands. Now, Allelujah similarly regards the whip as an extension of Caren's body, rather than just a weapon.
Allelujah remains still, perhaps a little cautious, but also gauging. ]