The sun was setting, the bathing light that filled the canyon, like milk did a bowl, slowly crept out and faded into darkness. The canyon was colorful, red earth, brown soil, blooming flowers of yellow and red, purple and pink. Green blades of grass covered the open distance and green moss and vines covered the ancient trees. A small area near the waterfall was bare except the blades of grass and a fire pit. Rocks were stacked around an area where ash remained from former travelers and visitors of the canyon. Wood was stacked neatly within the boundaries of the rocks arranged in a circle and beneath them some dry bark was lit, slowly being to burn the logs onto top. The air was filled with teh scent of blooming wild flowers and berries and within the air there was a sense of peace.

A woman dressed in what appeared to be an outfit for dancing rituals stood firm, her blade draw and extended upwards, the tip to the sky, the width of the blade centered between her eyes. She wore a leather peices lined with a white fabric, the same material that her skirt is made from, over her sensitive areas and a skirt over that. The skirt was merely a string that was threaded through petal shaped clothes of white fabric. The fabric was thin and very see-through allowing the silloutte of her long thick legs to be revealed. The fabric fell to her knees and was in seperate peices, therefore it looked like a skirt but with multiple slits all the way to the thread that hung on her hips. On her upper half she wore a fabric of leather over her breasts but it was covered in the same white fabric, just it wasn't see through. Her hair was braided back and twisted up into a tight bun, still wet from her swim before she got dressed. She was barefoot but didn't mind.

The white fabric looked angelic to her light bronze complexion. She wore a calm face, her green eyes closed. And within a second the music began in her head, her motivation to train. She tapped her foot softly to the music that she recalled in her head. It was a special tune, one her father had taught her to dance too, the same music she used to motivate herself to train for her swordsman skills, and within it she incorporated some of his dance moves. She had also incorportated some of the street fighter moves she had witnessed when she was traveling from her village to this world. She was utterly amazed at the strength that had to be obtained to do such wonderful fighting. It was much like the training they did in her village. The children would gather every full moon and the adults would pass on their wisdom and teach them some more moves before pairing them up. They were paired in twos and would do what the elves called, "dance." There was no actual contact made between the children, if there was it was known as an illegal stunt, and they would not be allowed to continue. The purpose was training the child but making sure that no anger surfaced between the two competetors. If it did, actions would be taken immediately.

Finally she broke free. She spun, bringing her sword, which was in her right hand under her left breast, almost as if it were being pulled from it's sheath. She fought the wind, which stood a worthy component. Almost a cat game of "wont let you touch me" thing. She jumped back and forth, swirling her sword violently in the area where the competetor stood, in her mind. She threw her sword behind her, it landing tip down in the soil. She threw her weight backwords, doing a back flip, then another and another. She landed on her feet and drew her sword from the ground and smiled. She ran to a tree and grasped it, almost like running. She jumped up into the tree in a split second and continued on the limb of a branch, testing her balance too. But unfortunately she lost balance, trying to catch her fall, she wrapped her legs round the branch and instead of falling, hung upside down, legs tightly grasping the flesh of the bark. She dropped her sword and grabbed the branch, releasing her thigh's grip on the branch and swung, landing on her feet. But she did not continue with her sword, but used street fighting. Many kicks and street moves incorporated with the dance moves her father had taught her were revealed. The sillouette of her form danced among the trees as the canyon was now dark and the fire bright, casting her slim and curvy form on the trees.

Sweat formed on her body but still the music played on. Her muscles rolled over her bones, and her form's muscular build was revealed as she thrusted forward kicks and her fists, followed by flips and spins. She was free, she thought of nothing but the things her father had taught her, the things she saw the buff men do when they did street fighting and the music. She thought of nothing more and yet nothing less. It was her night, and she smelt the aroma of sweet water, which was a scent most familar at home, in her village. She was one on one with peace and her mind and Grey Elf's were at their best in this state.