kicking leg straight up high and then slamming the heel downwards at the opponent’s head. Finally, The Reverse Alligator Kick was done by spinning the torso towards the back, lifting the kicking leg and swinging it out and backwards in a horizontal arc.
Lance had also learned an assortment of hand techniques which included punches, jabs, Back-fist Strikes, Elbow Strikes and Knife-hand Strikes. A punch was a fisted strike that originated from the waist or the mid rib level and was executed using the fist that was further away from the opponent while a jab was a similar strike but was done using the closer fist. The Back-fist Strike looked like a total opposite of a slap, and used the back of the fist and the top portion of the knuckles to hit instead of the palm. For this technique, the fist was closed tight just like it was for a punch. The Elbow Strikes were strikes using the elbow that were employed at a variety of angles. The Knife-hand Strikes were strikes that use the side of the palm to hit the opponent but the fingers were kept straightened out with a slight curve at the tips, much like how the blade of a knife looked. Lance had to practise all these movements over and over again until he got them right, and he had to keep practising them over and over again to keep them right, every evening.
Spirit lay on his belly, his eyes gazed lazily into the flickering flames. Ray was already asleep. But sleep came hard for Lance. He relived the horror of his family’s death in his dreams night after night, waking up with tears in his eyes. After a long struggle, he finally dozed off. The howling wind had died down to a gentle whispering breeze, a fitting serenade to the three wearisome travellers fast asleep in this dimly lit cave.
The next morning the trio woke up to the harmonic chirping of birds. The bonfire had burnt to ashes and the sun was just rising over the distant mountain tops. Their usual routine began. They freshened up at a nearby stream. The icy cold water jolted their senses to life. Breakfast consisted of some wild fruits and vegetables they had found in the forest the evening before, in addition to the supplies that Ray had bought earlier in Greentown. Then there was nothing left to do but to walk, and walk they did. Everyday, they walked and walked so that they could get to the next town. But Lance sensed that there was more to this nomadic travelling than just moving from town to town hunting demons for rewards, yet he was too polite to ask. He was sure he would find out when the time was right.
The morning was cool due to the heavy downpour the night before. A gentle breeze soothed their skins as the trio walked down the lonely road heading eastward. Ray stared straight ahead, immersed in heavy thought as he walked. Something was troubling him, yet he was not sure what it was. Lance was taking in the sights of his surroundings as he walked. He had never been out of the Greentown area before and the forest that they were now travelling through held mystery and excitement for him. Strange looking butterflies, rhythmic chirping of birds and the occasional monkey swinging from tree to tree enthralled him. Lance was used to the green of plants, but unlike his father’s farm, these were wild and disorganised; somehow chaotic yet calming at the same time. Spirit moved along beside them. He was neither in deep thought like Ray nor fascinated with the forest like Lance. His state of mind was one of alertness, both for prey and for predator. His eyes were wide and his ears erect, waiting and searching for signs that only the hunter-survivalist instinct in him could understand.
The strangest thing happened ! They felt dizzy and disorientated. They lost their footing. Both Ray and Lance fell. Ray managed to land in a one-kneed kneeling position while Lance ended up flat on the ground. Spirit staggered wildly but did not fall. Low-pitched, loud
Lance had also learned an assortment of hand techniques which included punches, jabs, Back-fist Strikes, Elbow Strikes and Knife-hand Strikes. A punch was a fisted strike that originated from the waist or the mid rib level and was executed using the fist that was further away from the opponent while a jab was a similar strike but was done using the closer fist. The Back-fist Strike looked like a total opposite of a slap, and used the back of the fist and the top portion of the knuckles to hit instead of the palm. For this technique, the fist was closed tight just like it was for a punch. The Elbow Strikes were strikes using the elbow that were employed at a variety of angles. The Knife-hand Strikes were strikes that use the side of the palm to hit the opponent but the fingers were kept straightened out with a slight curve at the tips, much like how the blade of a knife looked. Lance had to practise all these movements over and over again until he got them right, and he had to keep practising them over and over again to keep them right, every evening.
Spirit lay on his belly, his eyes gazed lazily into the flickering flames. Ray was already asleep. But sleep came hard for Lance. He relived the horror of his family’s death in his dreams night after night, waking up with tears in his eyes. After a long struggle, he finally dozed off. The howling wind had died down to a gentle whispering breeze, a fitting serenade to the three wearisome travellers fast asleep in this dimly lit cave.
The next morning the trio woke up to the harmonic chirping of birds. The bonfire had burnt to ashes and the sun was just rising over the distant mountain tops. Their usual routine began. They freshened up at a nearby stream. The icy cold water jolted their senses to life. Breakfast consisted of some wild fruits and vegetables they had found in the forest the evening before, in addition to the supplies that Ray had bought earlier in Greentown. Then there was nothing left to do but to walk, and walk they did. Everyday, they walked and walked so that they could get to the next town. But Lance sensed that there was more to this nomadic travelling than just moving from town to town hunting demons for rewards, yet he was too polite to ask. He was sure he would find out when the time was right.
The morning was cool due to the heavy downpour the night before. A gentle breeze soothed their skins as the trio walked down the lonely road heading eastward. Ray stared straight ahead, immersed in heavy thought as he walked. Something was troubling him, yet he was not sure what it was. Lance was taking in the sights of his surroundings as he walked. He had never been out of the Greentown area before and the forest that they were now travelling through held mystery and excitement for him. Strange looking butterflies, rhythmic chirping of birds and the occasional monkey swinging from tree to tree enthralled him. Lance was used to the green of plants, but unlike his father’s farm, these were wild and disorganised; somehow chaotic yet calming at the same time. Spirit moved along beside them. He was neither in deep thought like Ray nor fascinated with the forest like Lance. His state of mind was one of alertness, both for prey and for predator. His eyes were wide and his ears erect, waiting and searching for signs that only the hunter-survivalist instinct in him could understand.
The strangest thing happened ! They felt dizzy and disorientated. They lost their footing. Both Ray and Lance fell. Ray managed to land in a one-kneed kneeling position while Lance ended up flat on the ground. Spirit staggered wildly but did not fall. Low-pitched, loud
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