She slows down, and the technique uncoils rather than hitching, its rebellion quelled. Her breathing comes back to normal and her madra flows more easily.

"Of course you're right," she says. "Maybe next time you'll listen to your instincts before you end up slamming your face into a tree, hmm?"

"That was one time! Or perhaps four. How was I supposed to know the answer to all life's problems isn't "Use more power?" Truly, to mock me for such an unavoidable error you are a cruel and heartless woman. Evil beyond mortal imagination!"

He's beaming at her, so, so much love in his eyes.

"Truly, the ashen depths of my heart are a mystery beyond mortal ken. Not that that should excuse you with all the practice you've had at kenning them!" She breaks down giggling, pulls him in close, and kisses him soundly.

He starts moving in to kiss her at the same moment she reaches for him. If they weren't so graceful perhaps that would result in their teeth knocking together. Were they not so durable, perhaps that would hurt them. Instead, his movement towards her instantly accounts for her sudden movement towards him and nothing so clumsy happens.

He does his best to kiss her within an inch of her life, arms wrapping around her and holding her close against him.

She kisses back ardently, her breath hot, her arms embracing him close, and suspended in that blissful moment the dream slowly fades to white.

And Xue Meresankh awakens, covered in sweat, in her bed at the inn. 

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh what was that —

Xue snuggles deeper into the covers and tries to suppress her own arousal and embarrassment. That was — Song Terem — and they kissed —

She's never had a dream quite that clear before. They were always vaguer, before. Clear enough to know it was him, but so much more immersed in fog and soft warmth, rather than — being able to see him, properly... 

Her imagination must really be getting away with her now that she's actually met him in person. It's obviously a mashup of her technique practice earlier with her more persistent fantasies... 

Thinking back to her technique practice yesterday, though, maybe dream-him was right. Maybe she should try going a little more slow and smooth, instead of forcing it...

No reason not to try it!

She pushes herself out of bed, a smile on her face, and starts getting ready for the day.

Terem has been awake for half an hour when she rises. He's off to the north of the town, cycling force aura from the whitewater rapids there. If she looks out of her window she can just barely make him out, he's a tiny dot off in the distance.

Meresankh's gaze skates right past Terem, his form too far away for her to even really register. She goes out to the ice-cart, where her parents are setting up for the morning's deliveries, and resumes practice; best to try and make progress while she can. 

She sits atop the ice blocks, even though it makes her look slightly odd and is a little uncomfortable even with a sheet of fabric between her and them. She's found it's easiest for her to draw aura when she's actually in physical contact, one with the ice; she lays a hand against its cold surface and focuses. 

A distant voice comes back to her, unfamiliar, from the depths of memory. Someone once said to her... "Speed is fine, but rushing breeds error. Practice slowly so you can be quick when it counts."

None of this shoving Aura around by main force. She was going far too fast, trying to show off for Terem. She should build the technique properly, layer by layer of madra from the ground up.

It takes her a while. It's slower even than the version she pulled out in front of Terem. Minute after minute crawls past.

She was kind of half-expecting the madra to suddenly flow smoothly, like in her dream, but it doesn't seem to be happening. Guess she shouldn't put too much stock in dream insights. 

Taking her time deliberately does seem to be improving her results, though. And being able to take it slow is exhausting her less as well. She's been pushing very hard for the last year or so; perhaps she's picked up some bad practice habits...

So in a way, "not forcing it" is helping, just not with her madra forming...

Huh.

Her madra structures are still coming out somewhat brittle, though. She's getting an effective deflecting layer, but when she tests it she can tell it's too flimsy. Trying to construct a... dense layer of spiritual ice along her skin... doesn't seem to be working well; it shatters like thin ice or a badly tempered blade when she tests the structure with even moderate force. She's missing something.

Even when she finishes her cycling routine and starts to cool down from the spiritual effort, she's not tremendously farther along. 

It's really, really tempting to keep going. The obvious thing to try next is to form the madra more into and through her body, like with her existing ice body technique, but she knows from bitter experience that if she tries now she'll just run herself into the ground and might even have a madra accident.

Speed is fine, but rushing breeds error.

She inhales, returning all her madra at last to her core, and hops down off the wagon to talk to her family and see if they know where Song Terem has been. 

"I saw him head towards the rapids north of town a few hours ago. I don't know if he's still cycling there, but if you want to speak to him that's the direction you should head." 

Her mother looks from side to side, and leans in to whisper. "And be careful, daughter. I know you have a good head on your shoulders but it's been quite some time since you've been this reckless. You really must have your heart set on him." 

"Yes, mom."

And off she heads towards the rapids north of town, hopefully there to meet Terem.

There she does, in fact, meet Terem. He's sitting cross-legged on a large boulder that sticks out from the rapids in the middle of the stream, taking slow, deep breaths. She can see the force aura coming off the rapids move towards him slowly.

"Xue Meresankh! Good morning! What brings you to my rapids this fine day?"

He speaks in time with his cycling techniques breathing pattern, the sentence coming out in one long exhale.

"Progress report, Honored Jade! I've been able to form a thin gauntlet of compacted madra at the edge of my skin, but testing the technique shows it is too fragile for actual use. The layer snaps like brittle ice. I believe the layers of madra need to be deepened, to be laid through the body as well as the skin, but I was beginning to exhaust myself, so I came to report rather than continue my efforts."