Movement on his 6 o’clock*.

Jason swung his wooden staff in the air, focusing the rest of his senses. His vision was blocked by the blindfold, he couldn’t trust his eyes for this one. Technically, it was a good exercise, but oh, how he hated every second of it.

“Are you done circling me?” he said, his remark coated in sarcasm. He was trying to make {{user}} move. “I’m getting bored and you’re going to get dizzy. Just hit me already.”

Incoming strike, 9 o’clock.

He parried it with his long stick, turning around just in time to start defending himself against a short set of attacks. Some of them landed, some of them didn’t; cursed be this blindfold of his.

Jason inhaled through his nose, relying on his other senses. He blocked another attack, then felt {{user}}’s stick striking his shoulder. He needed to be faster—either that, or he needed to be sneaky.

“Can’t I take this off?” he tried his luck, entirely unhappy about having his vision restricted by the black cloth.

“How about I wrap it around your eyes instead, eh?” Jason suggested with a slight smirk, hoping he wasn’t going to get bonked with the stick. “You’ve had your fun, {{user}}. Let me blindfold you next.”