[Down comes another bludgeon...and down further when it slips from Erika's fingers and hits the ground. She dances clumsily back from it to spare her toes, nearly tripping over, shoulder catching the shelf. It gives her her balance back, but the girl hisses at the pain like a creature provoked.
Her fluster could be fearful panic, or the defensive flailings of someone caught doing something strange and choosing to double down on it. Or both. Whatever it is, it's clearly being channeled into rage and bluster. Her eyes flicker around, stubborn and frantic, searching for a weapon in the half-second before the charge she's committed to.
The only thing in reach is an armchair. She comes at Bryn with one of its cushions, swinging with completely useless fervor.]
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Her fluster could be fearful panic, or the defensive flailings of someone caught doing something strange and choosing to double down on it. Or both. Whatever it is, it's clearly being channeled into rage and bluster. Her eyes flicker around, stubborn and frantic, searching for a weapon in the half-second before the charge she's committed to.
The only thing in reach is an armchair. She comes at Bryn with one of its cushions, swinging with completely useless fervor.]