[ This isn't the kind of battle that she's used to. It's different from their fight on the train, just as chaotic but not as contained, where they could face enemies in a small space and take cover just to breathe. It isn't like back home either, where Big Brother Corrin kept her near the rear of the army, so that she could heal safely from the back lines.
Here, she doesn't have those kinds of assurances. It's messy and senseless and horrific, and the only thing that's keeping her from panicking is knowing that she can't panic if she wants to be of any use to anybody. She has to stay focused.
The gash carved into Bolin's side is gruesome, but this is something she's far more accustomed to. She's just finishing up when he suddenly yanks her away, out of the trajectory of a lightning attack that strikes the spot they were just standing a second ago. It's so close that the crack rings in her ears and her vision goes white for just a second.
After she blinks away the spots in her vision, she glances over her shoulder at the pair of griffon riders on the attack—she doesn't doubt that they'd seen her healing Bolin and decided to target her, as many of the Noirian soldiers seem to be doing. Quickly, she glances around for cover, but it doesn't surprise her that there's none—they'll have to fight. ]
B-Bolin!
[ She doesn't know—no, she has to do this. As the griffon riders circle around and ready their weapons, their movements through the air reminding her of Hinoka and Subaki with a pang, Sakura readies her bow and takes aim, her heart racing wildly. But this is what she's practiced—has been practicing, over and over again with her brother at her side, so that in moments like this her hands move on their own, for all that they tremble.
She looses her lightning arrow so that it crackles through the air and buries itself in the chest of one of the riders, electricity rippling outwards, his cry of pain rattling her to her soul. ]
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Here, she doesn't have those kinds of assurances. It's messy and senseless and horrific, and the only thing that's keeping her from panicking is knowing that she can't panic if she wants to be of any use to anybody. She has to stay focused.
The gash carved into Bolin's side is gruesome, but this is something she's far more accustomed to. She's just finishing up when he suddenly yanks her away, out of the trajectory of a lightning attack that strikes the spot they were just standing a second ago. It's so close that the crack rings in her ears and her vision goes white for just a second.
After she blinks away the spots in her vision, she glances over her shoulder at the pair of griffon riders on the attack—she doesn't doubt that they'd seen her healing Bolin and decided to target her, as many of the Noirian soldiers seem to be doing. Quickly, she glances around for cover, but it doesn't surprise her that there's none—they'll have to fight. ]
B-Bolin!
[ She doesn't know—no, she has to do this. As the griffon riders circle around and ready their weapons, their movements through the air reminding her of Hinoka and Subaki with a pang, Sakura readies her bow and takes aim, her heart racing wildly. But this is what she's practiced—has been practicing, over and over again with her brother at her side, so that in moments like this her hands move on their own, for all that they tremble.
She looses her lightning arrow so that it crackles through the air and buries itself in the chest of one of the riders, electricity rippling outwards, his cry of pain rattling her to her soul. ]