He groans under his breath. “I should’ve stayed in my dorm.” he murmurs under his breath. At his comment, the person turns her head towards him.
Looking over her shoulder, despite seeming distracted by her leisurely turn, her body remains taut. Her shoulders remain stiff and her grip on the hilt grows tighter and tighter by the minute.
“You should’ve, but now you're stuck here; with me.” The woman grumbles under her breath and sends Talin a sharp look. She softens her glare slightly after seeing Talin’s terrified expression. She glances back at the entity in front of her, unmoving but still staring, waiting for her next move. “Look; just stay behind me and don’t move. Got it?” Talin nods, wanting to be out of this situation as quickly as he got himself into it, and if this lady was his ticket out, he’d do whatever he needs to do. She spins her blade as she steps towards the entity. As the blade spun in her hand, threads of electricity flickered around her form. They gathered around the blade, encircling it like the last threads of yarn in a spindle. Her blade twists and slashes with her body like an extension of her arm as she dashes towards the formless amalgamation with its crazed grin. The being tries to change form to dodge the woman’s blade but like lightning, her blade meets its target and cuts its arm clean off. The threads run towards the amalgamation, some restraining it, the others accompanying the first slice. The thing’s scream echoes as it clutches where its arm was. With its other arm, it tries to grab at the swordswoman, creating fingers to grab better. Yet she does not falter in her slashes. Despite the entity’s frenzy, she stays calm, moving with the grace and elegance of a dancer yet with the experience of a swordswoman. As her blade continues to parry the frenzied strikes, the golden threads, once slightly loose around her blade, clamp and wrap around her sword, encapsulating it in a golden glow at the shout of an order from her lips. “Bind!” she shouts, her eyebrows pulled together and her eyes narrow as she focuses on her next target. All the threads return to her blade at the command. She raises her blade over her right shoulder with her left hand as if it were a baseball bat. The swordswoman bends, keeps her right leg back, poised to move at any moment, while her left is bent. She merely looks at her opponent with a blank look before bolting towards them. When she gets close enough, she readjusts her sword and slices in an arc from her opponent's shoulder to their hip. When the arc reaches its end, the woman, who now is behind the entity, sheaths her blade. When it clinks, the threads all shoot towards the swordswoman’s opponent, slicing in large arcs; at the beginning