A little music to fit the mood
Even in the wilds of the Netherworld, there are boulders.
In front of this particular boulder, a figure in pink stands, her palms together, her eyes closed. She focuses.
Slowly, she begins to move -- simply at first, a few punches here, a few kicks there. Graceful, deliberate motions that are almost more of a dance than they are a martial art.
Then faster, with more power. She moves in a circle, running through the moves as if they are built into her very being. Only the smallest beads of sweat break out on her brow.
She puts her palms together again. Calm.
And then -- a hurricane. Faster than the eye can see, she moves, punching, kicking. Her mind as much of a weapon as her body, she is formidable in her actions, and yet as light on her feet as a feather.
A final moment of focus, and she directs one final punch at the boulder.
A beat.
And the boulder splits in half.
She resists the urge to smirk. She hopes Sammo, Yuan and the old man are watching somewhere.
In front of this particular boulder, a figure in pink stands, her palms together, her eyes closed. She focuses.
Slowly, she begins to move -- simply at first, a few punches here, a few kicks there. Graceful, deliberate motions that are almost more of a dance than they are a martial art.
Then faster, with more power. She moves in a circle, running through the moves as if they are built into her very being. Only the smallest beads of sweat break out on her brow.
She puts her palms together again. Calm.
And then -- a hurricane. Faster than the eye can see, she moves, punching, kicking. Her mind as much of a weapon as her body, she is formidable in her actions, and yet as light on her feet as a feather.
A final moment of focus, and she directs one final punch at the boulder.
A beat.
And the boulder splits in half.
She resists the urge to smirk. She hopes Sammo, Yuan and the old man are watching somewhere.