There was a wet crack . Blood, dark and thick, gushed over Elara’s mouth and chin. She released the hold, reeling backward, hands flying to her face. Sera scrambled to her feet, chest heaving, dust caked in the sweat on her arms.
The heat, the loose sand, and the unpredictable wind add layers of difficulty. A fighter isn't just battling an opponent; they are battling dehydration and unstable footing.
They stood on opposite sides of the clearing again. But the energy had shifted. The initial rage had burned away, leaving only exhaustion and the grim reality of the task at hand. Mira wiped the blood from her split lip. Elena nursed the bruise blooming on her jaw.
Act Structure