Training with Cupid

Pulling her crimson locks through the band a final time Hebe pulled her hair tightly up, ensuring no strands fell into her face as she turned to look at Cupid. He stood almost head and shoulders above her, but he was slight, lean in a way she felt confident she might have a few seconds of holding her own. His eyes scanned her for a moment before he asked with a crooked smirk, “You ready?” Her nod took place of answering him verbally, not wanting any tremor of nerves to give her away. He tossed her a staff, heavy dark oak that stung her palm as she caught it. She twisted the beam of wood in her hand, rolling her shoulders as she moved to stand across from him in the circle he had created for them earlier. “Ready?” he asked again and this time she snorted, nodding her head, “Ready when you are old man.”

He didn't give her a chance to ride high on her taunts for long as he, all long solid limbs swung into action. He put Hebe on the defensive right away, using the staff in her hand to avoid his and not to strike out on her own. As she twisted, swinging back and forth her ponytail was like a whip of fire behind her, the only slash of color when both of them wore black. She leveled her staff against his, huffing out a labored breath as he smiled over at her like it was no effort to him at all to face her. “Keep up Hebe,” he teased, causing her to strike out without first bracing her side, leaving it open and unable to protect herself. Still he hadn't expected the force of the swing so when her staff smashed his cheek on reflex his head snapped back in surprise.

The delight on his face carried in his voice when he added, “You Greeks, such tempers.” And then he retaliated. Hebe barely had time to brace herself as he landed strikes on her arm, leg and hip in rapid succession. It was a done swiftly, one after another and Hebe without the control it would take to deflect any of his blows, not with the ease he was delivering them. Her swing to his side was broad, and it shocked him into dropping it staff, but that didn't give Hebe the edge she craved. He grabbed hers with both hands, and rolled her and the wood so she flipped over landing solidly on her back. The air pushed from her lungs loud enough that Cupid stilled to watch her, waiting until she sucked in another breath. Then he smiled again, standing as if there wasn't a care in the world.

Cupid offered her a hand when she let the staff go and watched it roll away. Her back ached at the hard landing but she let him pull her up as he asked, “Should we check for broken bones, I wouldn't want your father to come after me.” His tone was dry, sardonic and she punched him in his arm with a snort. “Don’t worry, Daddy Dearest wont touch you. Unless there is some gain for him I doubt he remembers most of us are even alive.” She then added with a grin, “My mother however, you know Hera’s reputation for vengeance.” She wiggled her brows at him laughing at the way his features relaxed into cool indifference. “I’m going to ice my ass and tomorrow we are trying again. And again and again until I can knock you on your ass,” She told Cupid, pulling her hair tight again, her smile buoyant because though she had been far from besting him she was getting better, and that was her goal.