self defense
Eve Wyland♀️
19
Among those who joined the ninja self-defense school was a woman named Eve Wyland. She was quiet, with a guarded presence, her eyes always scanning, as though she was bracing for something unseen. She rarely spoke about her past, but there was a sharpness in her movements, a precision that hinted at survival honed over years of hardship.
Eve had grown up in a home where silence and invisibility were armor, where one wrong word could ignite chaos. She learned early how to move without being noticed, how to anticipate danger before it arrived. But the skills that had once protected her now felt like chains, born from fear rather than freedom. Joining the class was her way of breaking free, of reclaiming her power.
Today’s lesson brought the class to the local mountains, far from the noise of the city. Sensei Yamato stood before them in a clearing, his calm voice carrying over the rustling leaves.
“Stealth is not mystical,” he began. “It’s discipline. Awareness. It begins with understanding how others see—or don’t see—you. Tonight, we’ll practice using terrain, movement, and stillness. Simple techniques that build the foundation of blending into your environment.”
He demonstrated the basics: walking heel-to-toe to minimize sound, how to use foliage for cover without disturbing it, and the importance of staying below natural lines of sight. His movements were slow, deliberate, and achievable for anyone willing to practice.
Then, he split the class into two groups: those who would hide and those who would seek.
Eve volunteered to hide. She moved into the woods with ease, climbing high into the treetops. From her perch, she waited, feeling the stillness settle over her like a second skin. For the first time in years, she felt untouchable. Her thoughts wandered to her past—the bruises, the fear, the years of hiding to survive. But now, high above the ground, she felt something different: control. She wasn’t hiding out of fear anymore—this was her choice.
