He moved quickly, but not quickly enough. His body was not responding as it should. Sesshoumaru's eyes widened a little in annoyance and surprise as he felt the razor sensation of a sharp blade slicing through flesh - she did little more than scratch him, but she shouldn't have been able to touch him. It was this place again.

At least he had learned what he wished. She fought instinctively, and well. Her balance had shifted, she had moved too quickly to have needed to think about it, the movements themselves as graceful as a dance. And she had landed a blow on him. Whether or not this place weakened him, it was an accomplishment of some note.

He had recoiled from her when she struck at him, leaping backwards and landing maybe five feet from where she was standing - it was a small room, which restricted the distance he could travel even more effectively than the limitations imposed by this place. He stood very still, a ghost in what little light was cast upon him so indirectly, considering that for the first time in a very long time he could feel thin lines of blood dripping down his chest.

"You have been trained," he said a few moments of not moving later, his stance casual, his voice calm - interested, if anything. But then, this was what he knew.