weather. a storm of sorts, be it snow, sleet, rain, etc. 

she smells it before the cloud rolls in overhead. she frowns and buttons down the top flap of her quiver to protect her arrows from the upcoming rain. "Oi," she calls out, "Storms coming in. How much further are we?"

Emilia turns her chin up, looking toward the horizon and humming to herself. 

"Good." Zylnia blanches, "I don't know if you realise it but wet arrows don't do shit." Smirking, Emilia tosses Zylnia one of the daggers she hides inside her crimson cloak, those that are tucked just within grasp to be able to throw them at any given chance.

"You must learn how to adapt to your surroundings and environments."

Zylnia frowns, nearly fumbling to catch the dagger. "I don't understand why you're so batshit sometimes but so relaxed any other time." She holds the dagger in her palm, feeling the cool leather hilt against her palm. The steel of the dagger is sharpened on both sides, sliding up to a dangerous point.

"With a bow and arrow you hold your breath and release upon well, release," Emilia's voice rings out as she steps towards the base of a thick oak tree, "With a weapon like a dagger, you have to learn how to thrust the blade and how to personally witness death before you."

Zylnia chuckles at the wording from her mentor but doesn't comment on them, surprisingly knowing better at this point.

"Throw it at me."

Zylnia nearly drops the dagger.

"What if I miss and hit you? I don't know a damn thing about medicine." Emilia smiles, pressing her back against the oak tree. Thunder crashes around them, somehow seeming amplified through the forest they're in. The applause of rain hits them soon after, a downpour in seconds leaving both mentor and mentee drenched to the bone. Emilia stares at the half elf, blinking the rain drops away from her eyes.

"Well, Zylnia?" Emilia calls out, "Are you a Boreva or are you a Rockcut?"

Zylnia grips the dagger, nostrils flaring. "I'm whoever the fuck I want to be."

She throws the dagger at the blink of an eye. Her fingertips kissing the blade forward, guiding it in front of her as it sails through the air. She feels that time begins to fade around her, slowing as she watches the dagger and the woman on the other side of the weapon.

Thunder slams through again, Zylnia flinches and blinks only to open her eyes and see the dagger lodged just shy of Emilia's left eye. She grins.

"Boreva."