The demon she'd been stalking had unexpectedly attacked from behind. It was only her years of training that had saved her from becoming another statistic of violent crime.
She hefted her sword, seeing the chipped edges and telltale signs of stress fractures. As it was, she'd been lucky to get away with a minor flesh wound. She grinned and reminded herself that when she spoke to Spike later, she'd need to qualify that as a cut that didn't require stitches, rather than an imitation of the Black Knight.
open_on_sunday — challenge #194: stress
Part of the London!verse