[ Is this a fight? Doesn't matter, in the end. He needs all of his concentration just to keep his eyes on them. Fingers clung and twisting about Mira's elbow, preventing them from finding their mark, Tartaglia's stance is less tense than taut. No rigidity in him, save for his grip.
Shoving them back, reflex is clawing through his nerves, and Tartaglia heeds it. Cutting through the space between them, the swing of his fist so precise. His footing's so sharp and unbroken, leaving no easy openings as he aims for Mira's head. Tit for tat. ]
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Shoving them back, reflex is clawing through his nerves, and Tartaglia heeds it. Cutting through the space between them, the swing of his fist so precise. His footing's so sharp and unbroken, leaving no easy openings as he aims for Mira's head. Tit for tat. ]