4. Belladonna -2
He drew his sword and swung around, slashing the tree with all his might.
A few flecks of bark sprinkled the air and driften downwards. The young squire dropped the heavy sword with a gasp, still feeling the strain on his muscles. No matter how long he practiced, the metal blade never seemed lighter to him. How would he be able to face her like this, this foolish weakling, with his ragged hair and still childish arms. He could never once impress the beauty that was Belladonna, the gorgeous flower that floated by every day. She was too stunning to fall in love with his youthful demeanor and that he could not properly wield a sword.
The wonderous Ellie, as he had taken to calling her, would never notice him.
So he picked up the blade from the dirty forest ground, and let the feeling of the heavy steel flow through him.
He picked her blonde hair glimmering softly.
His thin arms lifted the blade higher than ever before. Her eyes were imprinted in his mind.
And sword met tree, in a sickening embrace of metal splitting wood.