"Fuck!" Ruchi gasped in exhaustion. A strange rage, competitive energy, and clerical prayers fueled her. Ruchi had the desire to surpass Xael and trample her into the dirt like a crushed, dry leaf. And maybe to impress her a little. What had started with playful excitement quickly became a ferocious frenzy of punches and desperate kicks on a training straw man. Ruchi's blood felt hot, her skin tight. Xael was clinical and calculated, each blow a blade of ice. Lloth clearly had a powerful impact on her. To match Xael's attacking speed, Ruchi had clutched her most secret, prized token inside her fist. A moon made of translucent, silver glass. The little Light. Do not speak her name here. Just in this moment, Xael let out a shriek and severed the straw man's head she had been pummelling, which crashed to the ground and rolled noisily towards the entrance. At the same time, Ruchi's grip tightened around her token of glass; it didn't just break, it shattered into a thousand pieces, each shard digging into her right hand. Blood started running down her arm, tracing thin paths through her sweat like petals of a night-blooming flower. Everything came to a screeching halt: the fierce blows and kicks ceased, whispered prayers and spells stopped ringing. Several pairs of eyes focused on the two clerics.
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