It's been a while since you've seen my sword....[Kiyr]

It still hurt. The punch, the throw. But the blonde tucked her body, coughing, and when she hit the ground, she dispersed the force by rolling. Coming back to her feet, regaining her breath with a couple more coughs, Kyrie refocused.

Moving forward, and then sprinting, she would get close and leap, as though in track and field in a long jump, and hopefully plant her feet against his side as he spoke—and use him as a receptor for all that force to send him rolling away. If she was successful, she would arch her body, land against her shoulders, hands back to lessen the force against her shoulders themselves, and kip back up to her feet.

David waited as she jumped before pushing back and up, aiming a kick with his left leg for her ribcage, intent to send the blonde sprawling. He'd grit his teeth and leap up, jutting out a knee with intent to smash it into her body while it was on the ground. She was resourceful, and prepared.

Good. Now both of them could vent a little.

There was little she could do aside from exhaling and prevent her body from tensing up. As it was, when his kick connected, the rest of her breath whooshed out with a cry of pain she couldn't stifle. Sent sprawling she was, panting to regain her breath somewhat, before heaving herself away in a roll along the ground.

Let gravity and the Earth do the work for her if David wasn't going to use his power, as seemed to be the case aside from a time or two.

Coughing, she pushed to her feet, sheathed sword knocking against her side in a reminder of its presence.

She didn't touch it.

Instead, her hands came up, knees and elbows slightly and comfortably bent, and she watched David. If he wasn't about to be on her already, it wouldn't be long until he closed the distance.

David hit roughly, his knee smashing into the soft earth of the training field. He would look up at her, light beads of sweat dotting his brow. He stared at her with a smirk. They were getting into it. Good. He hoped she would eventually give herself over to hurting him, the same way he was. Sometimes, frustrations were best vented through mutual destruction. He would speak gently, but she would hear it- she wasn't that far away after all.

"You'd think, after me treating you like you are worthless for so long, that you'd try to prove me wrong. I'm a little disappointed."

His smirk bled into a grin. Yeah, he was attempting to piss her off, make her want this. 

He know he did.

Crick crick...quirk.

An eyebrow slowly came up. He was baiting her, egging her on. Maybe to do something rash. But, at the same time, she couldn't deny that striking him had actually made her feel a bit lighter. But his words hit home.

"Not everyone gives in to their urge for vengeance at the expense of another, David; perhaps it is a display of my worth, then, that I have not." That eyebrow twitched higher. Yeah. That had hurt. She tensed, slightly, not giving him enough of a gap to respond. "But, as you have invited me—"

Kyrie sprang forward, effectively cutting herself off with the intent to drive herself close enough to him that he was within her reach. Her right fist snapped out towards his solar plexus; and retracted, more a diversion, as her left slid her sword free to drive the end of the hilt into his abdomen with a torque of her body. If she was at all fast enough, she would slide the sword back into its sheath as she lowered her body and spun, intent to sweep him off his feet.

The blonde wasn't going to squander the opportunity: the physical venting seemed to be the entire purpose; and it would be an excellent way to let go of the hurt and confusion.

David had a choice. At the speed of her movements, he could tell both were coming. He could block both, block one, or block neither. So, he'd go for the last in line. He tightened his abs, grunting as her fist would either hit his solar plexus or withdraw- either way he threw a punch for her face, left fist. The hilt of the sword would hurt much more, causing his eyes to bulge and force him back a step. It knocked the wind from him violently.

Still, he'd use his position to burst forward himself to attempt to tackle her to the ground. He'd push himself up and aim another punch for her cheek, intent to deal more damage. He struggled, however, to get his breath back from his position. He knew that a bruise would be forming from that hilt strike, and it was a dirty play.

He ignored her words- the truth was, she didn't know the reality of the situation. And he didn't intend to tell her, really. Not...yet. Was it a good time, even?

He pushed the thought from his mind. Let nature take it's course.

Instead of being able to go for the sweep, she was knocked back with the punch, but still had the satisfaction of landing the strike with the hilt...and winding him, by the sounds of things. Kyrie stumbled back, giving her head a quick shake, disoriented, but with enough awareness to slam the sword back into its sheath.

No need for a stray naked blade to cut either of them.

Looking up, she saw him just in time to take another step back and move to begin falling as he tackled, her left hand adjusting the sheathed sword before she let go, legs tucking to use his momentum and force with the tackle so she would wind up on top...where she would then drive the heel of her left hand down into the same spot she'd hit with the sword, using some of her weight to add force.

Kyrie would keep him breathless, then.

She shifted to maintain position, though considering their sizes... She would bring her right fist up for a crack at his jaw.

David grunted at the abdomen strike, now completely out of air. He was on his back, the blonde on top of him. He brought his own left fist up, now not holding back his strength with the intent to smash into her own solar plexus, give her a taste of the feeling. Because of his punch, he wasn't able to block the fist to his cheek, which turned his head to the side. Using the fist on her stomach, he would push up and throw her to the right to give him some breathing room.

On the cheek where she struck, a light cut opened. He grinned. He would move forward at a paced walk and aim a right cross for her, very slowly breathing through pursed lips in order to get some air into his body. Thankfully, there was plenty of muscle between her fist and his solar plexus, so the pain wouldn't last too long.

—oomph!

Winded and thrown, Kyrie rolled into a crouch and back up to her feet after coughing a little before taking a breath or two. Her face was probably starting to bloom in a few colours with bruising, and now David wasn't the only one having to regain breath.

Her hand passed lightly over her abdomen, sore, as David regained his feet, having gained time to do so. Her hands lifted and she moved to the outside of his cross, her left hand rising simultaneously to push her forearm against the outside of his to ensure it stayed on its course. Her right foot lifted, quickly snapping out for the side of his knee to at least unbalance him before it was set back down, quickly, so she could react if he evaded.

David cried out at the kick to his leg, dropping him to his knee. Still, she hadn't grabbed his punching up, she pushed it to keep the motion. So he bent his arm and jerked back to his feet, throwing his body forward rapidly to aim the elbow for her face.

If it hit, he'd twist his body, standing on his now aching leg and aiming a kick for her abdomen to send her flying. Then he would fall back onto his side, and lay there, wincing. Then, he laughed.

"You can still kick my ass good, Kiyr. I'm....ugh....glad to see it."

He sat up with a groan, then spat out a little blood. He'd stare over at her then wipe his mouth.

"I'm sorry for everything. For the last five years. I think it was easier to blame you for some things instead of...actually accepting where the blame lie."

With her arm in position, despite being surprised, Kyrie managed to move quickly enough to prevent the elbow from connecting to her face, directly, but the blow was jarring enough that it caused the muscles to seize. She took a half-step back with a gasp, and was caught by the kick.

Her body careened away, hitting the ground in a tumble, and then a roll, before she lay sprawled on the ground, panting softly. She didn't move, having saw him slump down in what was possibly the end of their "spar". Just...time to regain her breath.

"You still...hit like a freight train..."

Kyrie knew she would be gloriously sore tomorrow–she was already aching, now. Her head quirked a little so she could look over in his direction, and she summoned her arm to brush back her blonde tresses so she could actually see him as they spoke. She slowed her breathing, enough to take breaths that were a little deeper, her stomach rising and falling.

Her brows furrowed a little as he spoke.

"...I could not wrap my head around...you saying you forgave me for what you thought was fear, but not...not actually telling me. It...I guess that kind of makes sense, now..?" Not really, not entirely. Her brow remained creased. "...so it was punishment, then..? You still blamed me, because it was easier?"

The blonde didn't sound angry, just bewildered. She needed to figure it out. Was his forgiveness a sarcastic one all those years ago, and his statement a continuation, the other night? That didn't make sense either. Was that why she couldn't wrap her head around it? It seemed off, then, and still did. His statement had been genuine, when he said he had forgiven her.

But still, Kyrie didn't want to jump to conclusions, so she waited for David's reply, gaze focused on him.

He laughed, falling back and speaking strong now.

"I thought the obviousness of that lie would have broken through by now. I forgave you because I've been madly in love with you for as long as I can remember. Even through all that, I forgave you almost immediately after it happened. I stayed angry at you party because I was angry at myself, but mostly because...I thought you were afraid and your fear led to my brothers death. Forgiveness and anger don't always leave at the same time, you know. I can forgive someone for hitting me, but still stay angry about it."

Scarlet would have stirred and popped out, staring over at him. She was glad their talk before Kiyr had arrived had the impact she desired.

The laugh caused her to blink, her confusion growing. What? Wh—what? The blonde's eyes widened, and she stilled, her exhale slow to leak from between her lips. The petite woman seemed to sink into the ground a little. She hardly heard the rest of what he said, and had to focus on focusing. He was still speaking. But he loved...was in love with her all this time?

She could feel a droplet of sweat slide down her brow, but that along with the little scritching of Scarlet's claws against her skin didn't register. She just stared for a few long moments, dumbfounded.

All that anger had certainly pulled the wool over her eyes.

Finally, she blinked despite her eyes starting to sting with tears, and took a shaky breath in to start to slowly speak, when all the emotion and words that rushed up into her throat were the ones she couldn't spill. Not just yet.

"...you were so angry, and rebuffed me when I came...I guess...I was under the impression things changed. And you didn't, anymore, because I had left him behind to die." She flexed her abs with a wince, and used her arms to help herself into a sitting position, her back to him for a few moments.

Her hands lifted to comb and shake through her hair as she let her breath out in a whoosh, still stunned. But...

Holy crap.

Holy. Wow.

One arm dropped and the other's fingers brushed at the inside corners of her eyes, and she finally chuckled, that hand falling into her lap.

"...Aless is right—you are a jerk." As she spoke, she turned a little to look over her shoulder with a smile and damp eyes. "Good thing I knew, before...and I've loved you all along, despite everything."

David would speak very softly, so she would barely hear it.

"I know."

He lay spread eagle, staring up at the sky. His heart was pounding- this wasn't what he expected from today's fight. He just wanted to get in touch with her, to reconnect. To confess things that haven't been thought of in years...it wasn't healthy, maybe. He would close his eyes, taking a deep and steadying breath. Kiyr loved who he was- the weak Colonel that let his brother die. He had changed over the years- his desires grew to one of power. Power above all- so that none could control what he did, unlike when he was a colonel. He cleared his throat.

"I should go."

Still, he didn't move.

The blonde watched him for a moment, then looked down to Scarlet. Her hand rose from her lap, offering her palm to the tiny dragon to climb onto. Then, she gathered her feet beneath herself and pushed to her feet with a slight grunt, and mild groan as she stretched.

Ouch.

She turned, looking at David and tilting her head. Should go, but hadn't moved a muscle. She meandered over, lowering herself to lay the back of her hand against his chest so Scarlet could slip off if she wished.

"I forgive you."

Kyrie didn't want to do or say more. It had been about a week since they spoke, and this was their third interaction after years of avoidance. It would do no good to push things, or rush. Whether Scarlet got off or deigned to stay, the blonde would straighten back to standing.

"You may want to go clean up. I think you have a little something along your cheek."