[ So he's looking away, spinning the blade expertly over his fingers, holding fast, letting the weight of the sword and his arm govern the edge.
It touches the thin, matchstick-looking tree and seems to move through it like butter. His feet slide into a follow-through footing and he breathes quietly at the finish, watching the dead plant snap. It falls with a loud crack and boom, the wind whipping at his pant legs. ]
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It touches the thin, matchstick-looking tree and seems to move through it like butter. His feet slide into a follow-through footing and he breathes quietly at the finish, watching the dead plant snap. It falls with a loud crack and boom, the wind whipping at his pant legs. ]
Ooo~