The kitsune warrior circled Sirah, her wooden sword held low.
"Ready?"
"Always."
The kitsune lunged forward with a thrust aimed at Sirah's chest. Sirah sidestepped and brought her sword down hard on the warrior's wrist. The kitsune yelped and dropped her weapon.
"Too slow," Sirah said.
Another warrior jumped in immediately, this one trying to sweep Sirah's legs. Sirah hopped over the attack and slammed her knee into the woman's stomach. The kitsune doubled over, gasping.
"Too predictable."
A third warrior came at her from behind. Sirah heard the footsteps, spun, and caught the practice sword with her bare hand. The stump of her left arm twitched as muscle memory tried to grab with fingers that weren't there.
"Too loud."
She yanked the sword away and tossed it aside.
The courtyard had gone silent. The three kitsune warriors picked themselves up, rubbing their bruises.
"Holy shit," Isabella said. "You demolished them."
"They weren't trying to kill me. Makes it easier."
