Chapter 51: Winter Moon
Swoosh Swoosh- The winter air rippled with his every strike, the monk dancing with interconnected martial moves imitated several animal movements, the crane my favorite as it looked vibrant and dreamy when he does his -before an attack pose- with his hand both stretched out and a leg raised up to his stomach coupled with the winter moon’s chilly white light glowing on his orange saffron, “Which sect did you come from” So he says, still in his unfazed pose, perhaps taking my silence as someone who doesn’t want to spill his secrets, “I see, doesn’t matter then, tiger fist” He continued -tick tack- he lunges forward changing his open fist into one aimed for a grappling strike, along with the sound of cloth slapping the air his fist missed the right side of my face, just like usual, anoth
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