Why was she doing this? This was so out far from her path... surely the Faceless one would be displeased. It's just for practice, she reassured herself. Even a skilled warrior still had to practice, right?

The landscape that surrounded her was beautiful, but the crisp green of the grass in contrast to the sharp sepia outlines of the mountains were all but invisible to her eyes. She had grown up here in the Earth Kingdom, and such sights were customary. Nothing unusual or particularly eye-grabbing about the scenery. Just another day in the Earth Kingdom.

That said, this particular day was rather hot. The sun was nearing its apex, and beat down mercilessly. There was a slight breeze, she noted, but not anything cooling. Just warm air moving about an already warm area. She was well equipped for such a day, however; her lavender kimono-top was sleeveless, revealing her stockily-built arms. The fabric of her outfit was rather breathable, unlike the silks many women were so fond of. Straw sandals were worn, but sturdy, laced up over the bottoms of her hakama, stopping just below the knee.

Under her breath, Akki praised Koh the Faceless, patron god of the Galgori --her people-- for the tolerable conditions. She was used to fighting in such an environment, more so than her fairer skinned kin from the Fire Nation. She remembered a time where Fire Nation Galgori had stopped in her village — before it was burned to the ground, that is. They had come to train with her master, for he was skilled in the use of blade-fans, similar to the fans used by the legendary Kyoshi warriors but with a much different style. The brown-eyed woman had been appalled at their self-discipline. They complained to the high heavens about the heat, the sun, the sweat. Behind their backs, she had made a face at her master. These were Galgori of the Fire Nation? They were pathetic.

The woman chuckled at the memory. The men had not gone through the trials, like her, but they had been raised in a 'normal' village. Inferior specimens of her people, the whole lot of them. They were rather puny, too. While Akki was taller than most of the females of her kin, standing at a good five feet, six inches, she was generally still smaller than most of the men. These 'Galgori' (and she used that term very loosely) only surpassed her by an inch or two. Not to mention that her build and stature was much stocker, toned, and muscular than theirs. Sad excuses for Galgori, they were, and they had been some of the first to be slaughtered.

Caramel eyes darkened at the thought. Pathetic or not, they had still been kin. The Fire Nation was ruthless that day, striking down all in their path — warrior, woman, child, elderly — it didn't matter. They had been outnumbered and out matched, though as an entirely Galgori village had not gone down without a formidable fight. Her master was also among the dead, trampled to death by a Komodo Rhino.

It had taken her a long time to find her path again, after that; protect the innocent had eventually become her mantra. But that mantra conflicted with her desires as a warrior, to train and better herself. She would have to visit a Monk of Koh soon, to see if they could ask the Faceless One for clarification. The Spirits spoke in riddles, though... but the Monks were much better taught to interpret them.

She approached a small clearing at the base of the mountain, quite rocky. Nothing she hadn't battled in before. Her opponent was sitting at the base of the mountain, seemingly deep in thought. His feet were touching the earth, ever so lightly, and the young woman shrewdly deduced that he was an earthbender. As he was sitting, she couldn't quite judge whether or not his build rivaled hers, but she would assume so. Despite being a rather stocky and taller-than-average woman, most men still out weighed and out sized her. That said nothing about skill level, however, and Akki was nearing mastery with both her blade-fans and her sword-glaive.

As she neared her opponent, she wondered how she'd go about starting the fight. Social situations were always so awkward for her; she glanced at the ground, noting that her sword-glaive seemed massive in her shadow. Akki supposed it was pretty massive, especially as a weapon of choice for a woman. It was two thirds her height --roughly forty-four inches from blade tip to the end of the handle-- and she could easily lift it with one hand. It unnerved many of her opponents to see a woman lift such a large (and heavy) weapon with such ease and grace.

Finally, she was near enough to the man to be heard. The young woman stood there awkwardly, as if she were a shy teenager rather than a seasoned thirty-two year-old warrioress. She tugged at the tip of her ponytail, bunched together at the base of her neck and reaching just below the waist. Social situations were terrible. Akki blew the chin-length bangs out of the right side of her face; a futile effort, as they slid back into place. Enough stalling! she chided herself. SAY SOMETHING!

"Er... hi."


Lame.

This guy talked too much for her tastes. He was droning on and on, Akki dearly wished he would stop. He seemed to think that she was a threat, or something, and she held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "Nothing like that," she responded, her wood-smoke voice floating melodically up to where he sat. "I am simply a warrior in need of a sparring partner." She bowed in respect, her cocoa-coloured hair falling over her shoulder. Chocolate eyes lifted to meet his, and she murmured an introduction: "I am called Akki," she said simply.

Straightening, she stood with her arms at her sides, apparently at ease. "I have been travelling for a while now, searching for someone to break the rust off my skills." For the love of Koh, that was lame. The Galgori woman shifted, wondering how long it would take for the bender to accept her challenge. "I have no desire to fight to the death, only to first blood. Nothing mortal, on my honour."

Koh, but she hated talking. The burning sun didn't make this any easier; her already heated skin felt warmer as embarrassment and uncertainty flushed through her bones. In the silence that stretched between them, Akki could feel the stillness of the surrounding area. The land was dry, desert-like; there were few animals, maybe a reptile here and there. The silence was almost deafening, with nary a songbird to cut through the uncomfortable (at least, to her) pause in conversation.

Her mouth feeling dry, she unhooked the water pouch from the sash around her waist. Akki took a sip, taking care not to spill a drop or overdrink; water cramps would not be a good thing to have during a battle, nor would wasting water be conducive to her survival in this harsher terrain of her homeland.

From the folds of her hakama, Akki moved toward a rock and set down a small bag. Searching to fill the time between his response, she gestured to the bag and addressed the earthbender again. "I have a few first-aid supplies," she informed him, her husky voice jarringly loud to her ears. "Some ointments to stop bleeding, bandages, and some herbs to help with pain...." the woman trailed off into silence.

This was so uncomfortable. The warrior felt sweat slowly dripping down her neck, offering some semblance of cooling effect in the heated breeze — if it could be called a breeze. The corners of her mouth turned upward in what she considered a smile — though, to anyone unfamiliar with her, it would either be unnoticeable, or seemingly a mocking grin. She was aware that it would be one or the other, and Akki hoped it wouldn't be interpreted as the latter.

Akki stiffened, affronted at the lack of common courtesy. She had offered her name, yet this child had not offered the same decency. Coldly, wordlessly, she studied him, saying nothing and making no move to ready herself for battle. When one requested a duel, Galgori children were taught, the honourable thing to do was to provide, at the very least, a name for your opponent to address you by. Duels were not in the same league as a skirmish off the street or a battle, the protocols of neither requiring an exchange or names —- or even a face-to-face encounter.

Even if that were something he had not learned in his training, Akki judged him to be between fourteen to sixteen summers of age; that would make her at the very least exactly twice his age... she had been long initiated into bloodshed by the time he had drawn his first breath. As his elder by at least twice his life time, she deserved the basic courtesy that children should give their elders. Why, she was old enough to be his mother, had she chosen the route of being bonded. Was that what the non-Galgori taught their children? The warrior tried to think back during her training. She frowned, unable to remember much. Granted, training never allowed for much time to socialise, especially with the non-Galgori children of the village.

As she waited for the boy to remember his manners, Akki took stock of him. As she expected, he assumed the traditional earthbending "horse" stance. Her trained gaze took in the unusal folds and falls of the cloth of his garments surrounding his arms, and knew that he carried concealed weaponry. The folds of his sleeves were just massive enough to make the type of weaponry indecipherable. The woman surmised that it was blades of some sort; throwing knives, stars, or other such assassin-oriented weaponry would not require long sleeves in this blasted desert heat. All of those items could be carried in a small pouch strapped to the waist, or a pocket — the unnecessary, self-induced discomfort could only mean that what he had hidden could not fit in a pocket or a bag. Obviously, as well, as the weapons were concealed, it could not be a staff or a long sword. Neither were they fist weapons, as there would be no need for sleeved concealment. Then again, they could also be tonfa; tonfa were small enough to hide in long sleeves and still pack a devastating blow were the user skilled enough.

Her chocolate eyes moved to study the young man's overall stance. It was a solid stance, as befitted all earthbenders. He was young, so the stance, whilst strong, was still incomplete. Even in her non-bending opinion, opening with a 'traditional' stance was already letting the enemy know too much. She also mused that his stance was that of an inexperienced bender. The stance itself was very 'by-the-book'; any warrior with years upon years with training eventually developed their own style and stance whilst still remaining true to the roots of their discipline.

She sighed audibly. Tch... this was going to be a long day if she was going to wait for him to come to his senses. Still... it wouldn't do let him think he could get away with being a mannerless moo-sow. Knowing that he waited to guage her stregnth (at least he knew to do that much, unlike many rash young men in her now-destroyed village), Akki thought it best to oblige. It'd give her something to do whilst waiting for his manners to kick in, as well as see his reaction to her abilities.

The sword-glaive on her back easily would've tipped a grown man an entire head taller than her over, and she hefted it from its fastenings with ease, the bicep on her left arm tightening visibly and defining the toned muscle underneath skin. With no strain whatsoever, Akki lifted the blade over her head, and brought it down to rest horizontally across her shoulders — again, an action that would make most trained men buckle at the knees.

With her right hand, Akki wiped the sweat from her brow and wiped it on her top. A crude habit, admittedly, but there was no good reaching into her pockets at this stage. She, too, had concealed weaponry, hidden cleverly to match the folds of her hakama so as not to draw attention. There was a small, equally hidden slit in the side, made so as to coincide with the natural folds of the cloth, from which she could easily extract her bladed fans. She stood comfortably paces away from him, a span she could cross in mere seconds. Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, yet she retained a relaxed stance, ready to shift her balance as necessary without losing any driving force between a defensive or offensive maneuver.

There, enough posturing. Let's see how long it takes for him to come to his senses, she thought.