Jioni observed the lance. It was nice only because it was new; she rarely saw anything new. Not a single scratch or dent on it–a true oddity in these times. She held the weapon white-knuckled and incensed, amazed at its beauty–It should be hers instead. Jioni was urged to run off and practice with it, but a sinking realization reminded her that she didn’t deserve that. Jioni shrugged as if she didn’t care for it.
To the side remained the rodent: hurt and injured. Up went Jioni’s eyebrows as she avoided its three-eyed gaze. A worried expression marred her face the moment Mac came closer. She spun the lance as a warning and nearly dropped it–then caught it mid-air before it hit the ground. She then pointed it at him and he didn’t flinch, didn’t move; instead, he had a mocking smile.
