The collection title is from the song Tsubasa no Komoriuta from the anime Simoun. This drabble was for Maddie, who requested Tanith/Sigrun-sparring.

Adrenaline makes Tanith hyper-aware, but Sigrun's experience allows her to catch Tanith unguarded. The technique Sigrun uses to soften the blow hurts Tanith more than the gash does. It's tempered by nostalgia as she remembers experiencing Sigrun's teaching style firsthand. Tanith herself never goes easy on recruits. The enemy won't, she reasons.

She doesn't go easy on Sigrun, either, but her muscles threaten to seize up of their own accord when she lunges. Only Sigrun's lightning-quick reactions remind Tanith there's no need. Tanith has long since learned that with Sigrun, looks are deceptive. Nobody knows better than Tanith that behind that pleasant face is a warrior who can soar as quickly as any raven and strike as fiercely as any hawk, but she feels like she's learning all over again. Training together away from the prying eyes of recruits is a luxury; all of their days are spent protecting their empress and teaching others to do the same. They're rarely allowed—can't afford—to spar simply for the joy of it.

As they parry each other's blows, Tanith abandons thought and relies on the instinct that years of discipline have beaten into her body. She gives into raw adrenaline as her muscles experience the most wonderful kind of ache. There's a synergy between the two women as they thrust and dodge, locking lances in clashes of metal that Tanith feels deep within her bones. It's not sentimental, but it's its own kind of passion, one that needs no frills or explanations.

For a moment, Tanith fears Sigrun will let her win, but Sigrun is kinder to her pride than that. She disarms Tanith and points the lance tip at Tanith's neck in one smooth motion before gracing her with a pleasant smile.

They don't go to the healer, though Sigrun—as always—tries to convince Tanith. It's a formality; Sigrun must know that Tanith will refuse, and besides, Tanith thinks Sigrun enjoys tending to her wounds. Here, the bedside manner most would expect comes out. Tanith returns the favor, rubbing salve on an arm painted in purple and red. Most people would find the scars Sigrun wears dissonant with her loveliness, but Tanith knows better. She traces one in a gesture more intimate than a kiss before leaning in to press her lips to Sigrun's all the same.