[Close combat is definitely not his strong suit, but he hasn't lived through everything life's thrown at him by being completely helpless at it. He gives a kind of embarrassing yelp as she tries to knock him off balance, and he stumbles backwards but manages to avoid falling. He's still boxed in, his only route of escape being the bed-- he leaps towards it, trying to get over it before she can catch up, laughing breathlessly. They're both pretty damn fast, so it's really up to luck if he succeeds.]
[Never strike where your prey is. Strike where it will be. If you don't know where it will go, make it go where you need.
Who needs luck when you have skill? Petra is moving even as Claude stumbles, pouncing as he leaps to scramble over the bed. The timing couldn't be better; she lands on him hard right as he's stretching over the bed to pull himself across, knees planting into the mattress on either side of his waist, hands slamming down on his shoulders to force him down. She might not be laughing, but it's not hard to hear her grinning.]
If you are being too easy to catch, how could you be making a good husband for me? You must be worth keeping.
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I hope you didn't think I'd make this easy.
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Who needs luck when you have skill? Petra is moving even as Claude stumbles, pouncing as he leaps to scramble over the bed. The timing couldn't be better; she lands on him hard right as he's stretching over the bed to pull himself across, knees planting into the mattress on either side of his waist, hands slamming down on his shoulders to force him down. She might not be laughing, but it's not hard to hear her grinning.]
If you are being too easy to catch, how could you be making a good husband for me? You must be worth keeping.