Watching Carolina spar on any day could leave a man breathless, speechless, and probably a little brain dead from the blood rushing out of his head to other parts of his body. But watching Carolina spar against Wyoming sans armor. That’s something else entirely.
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York stood to the side of the training room with North and Wash watching Carolina finish her match with Wyoming. And by finish, I mean wipe the floor with him. She hit him with a one-two punch then flipped back, taking out his chin with her foot as she went. Wyoming staggered but didn’t go down.
“She’s got really good-” said Wash, voice trailing off as Carolina performed a perfect roundhouse kick, sending Wyoming spinning.
“Form?” North supplied for him. Wash nodded.
“Yeah,” York agreed. “She’s got really good-” His mind wandered as Carolina did some fancy spin move, catching Wyoming around the neck with her legs and flipping him over, landing on top of him.
“Form,” North repeated.
“Right, form.” Read more…