Sharpening Dulled Claws [Kita, Adalwolfa]

Pure, burning ecstasy pumped through her veins at the sight of destruction, gaze lit aflame with the brilliance of her attack razing the field before her, craving the image of her opponent's burnt figure gazing back with terrified eyes after so many words, so many movements of mockery she would have finally laid devastation upon her opponent!-

Her smile died as her ears caught words. The rise of heat and passion in her chest dropped like a cold stone, drenched with demoralization so that it may not rise so easily again. There was pure visible shock in her gaze, amber mirrors glazed with the sight before her; yet again, not so much as a scratch, a nick in her clothing, nor a smudge of dirt on her features - flawless, uninjured, unafraid, a pristine reflection to a filthy wild animal grasping for a speck of mirth.

The only emotion that seemed to tick to life on her face was of a jarring, toothy half smile, "The answer should be obvious to one such as yourself, superior to I in all manners, but it seems not: I am weak. I cannot push against what presses against me, lest I be crushed and marred with shame all the greater."

A hand lifted as if to present clearly what she was talking about - an ill-fitting crossing of green scale-like markings dotting her forearm for such a fiery looking being, "The weak perish. They wander the lands until the maw of death takes them, for they have nothing they are capable of keeping, even their lives. That is the path I tread, for I am truly incapable."

It felt like she was pierced by hundreds of cruel knives to speak such a thing into being, but it wasn't as if she had any dignity left to cling to, "Your words serve nothing more than to taunt me with what I am unable to grasp. A sight I am unable to see. A realm locked away from the likes of I due to a torrent of shortfalls. I am but a purposeless being."

"Then grow strong!"

There was a markedly more harsh tone to Ada's voice as she snapped back at the woman in front of her. All of her previous refinement still stayed present, but now there was a steely intensity to it that contrasted with the near-royal elegance she had held previously.

"Weakness is no state of birth. It is a choice! A mentality adopted by the meek, who delude themselves into believing that their place is beneath the strong! That it is their road to walk, and that they will still be rewarded for it in some way or another in the end."

Ada found nothing more disagreeable than simple acceptance of weakness as a state of being, nothing more fundamentally unacceptable than to claim that that is simply how things must be. Even in a creature such as this, she would not dare to led it simply pass.

"If you have no purpose, make purpose! If you are unable to grasp something, then build it for yourself! You ought not struggle because it will crush you? Nothing great has ever been made without struggle! If you cannot cross those shortfalls, if the path is unable to be walked, you simply carve your own path! Otherwise, if you are really so weak, you ought to just slit your own throat, here and now!"

That forced smile receded, a soft 'huh' following the realization of what her opponent was saying. Her posture gradually straightened from the readied stance she maintained, expression different from the burning anger or lapse into weakness - it was confusion, nothing but an almost pleading look on her face, as if she were wishing her opponent was saying something worth fighting against, something she could have genuine fury towards. But she couldn't find it, all she could find was an anger within herself.

That anger tore her soul, but it was anger for herself.

"I hate your putrid words," Her voice was a low growl, spoken through grit teeth, conflict lighting her eyes as her gaze hung low, arms falling to her sides with tightened fists, "I loathe how they tear at me in ways that cannot drive my heart to hate you. Your toying words sicken me. They instill naught but madness in my soul."

Disgruntled, her gaze appeared to look elsewhere for several moments, "Slice my own throat? You expect me to grant myself the cowardly luxury of forging my own end, when you are unwilling to entertain it yourself? If I am to perish, it is by the hands of my better; any lesser death is one died in insurmountable shame."

The electronic buzz of a Sonido would go off, her figure blurring and changing position to suddenly be a ways away from Ada, handling her Zanpakuto, the light of a Cero flickering at her pointer finger's tip.

"I will seek my better elsewhere. Farewell." The Cero's blast tore through the earth, leaving nothing but destruction in it's wake. She was gone upon the dust's settling.