Liora
Kara asked her to stop correcting the movement.
Liora lowered the sword.
"I thought that was why I came."
"You came to show me what happens when you're tired. You keep making it neat before I can see it."
Kara moved the cloth on the bench and held out her hand for the weapon.
Liora gave it to her.
The grip had held since the packing was adjusted and the leather rewound. The balance had passed its check. Nothing was loose. That had not stopped Liora from blaming the grip for a late return twice that morning.
Kara inspected the edge of the wrap, pressed along the seat and gave it back.
"Show me slowly. No output."
Liora took her place on the clear patch beside the bench. She made the return from the outside line, stopped with the point forward and waited.
"Again," Kara said.
On the next repetition, Liora held the starting position longer. Her palm grew warm against the leather. She brought the sword back and felt the familiar urge to squeeze harder near the end.
