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Beth grinned at his words and did something like a dance in place. Stopping to celebrate ended up being her downfall, as what would have hit her arm or chest ended up hitting her square on the cheek. And it hurt, more than it should have in her experience. It felt like being dunked in cold mountain water, or in a rain of burning bird s**t. It was like the sound all came rushing in, only instead of sound, it was pain and exhaustion.

Beth teetered back and abruptly sat, hand going up to her cheek, which twinged slightly. Under other circumstances, she thought that such a feeling would signify that she would bruise, but knowing the favor she was granted, it would probably be healed in minutes, if not hours. She met Brian's gaze, eyelashes fluttering as she tried to figure out how to respond. It was a combination of his expertise and her negligence, and she didn't want Brian to think she was regretting the decision to spar with him.

So after a moment, she laughed, still clutching her cheek. It was nervous laughter, to be sure, as she hoped she hadn't failed the test, but it was also meant to reassure her companion that she was all right and she harbored no hard feelings for the win. "Okay, Coach, I think that's enough for me! Time out or...whatever. I think you got me beat." She experimentally opened and closed her jaw, which obliged with only the barest hint of stiffness. Still, she smiled up at Brian, once more trying to reassure him.

Beth's HP: 8/47

Beth was somewhat tempted to exaggerate the pain and make Brian fuss over her more. But judging by the brightness of his eyes and the tension in his laughter, such a thing would be cruel. And she was not so desperate for affection as that. Or so she wanted to believe.

So she let him gently press his hand to her cheek and tilt her chin up, locking eyes with him. She felt her heartbeat kick up a notch, but pushed any train of thought down with determination. Brian was a good man. He was expressing concern at hurting a friend. It was not her place to put anything else on him that he had not asked for. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden.

"I know you didn't. I'm good. I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." She answered, giving him a genuine smile and softening her voice to be soothing and serious. It wasn't like he had pin cushioned her with metal feathers or anything, but he had managed to hit her where the bird did not.

Her hands lay idly in her lap, one curled around the whip and the other aimlessly scratching at the skin beneath her windbreaker on the opposite forearm.

Beth was slightly disappointed as his hand dropped away, but humored him a bit. "I think your fervor is a bit misplaced, if you think my face looks like a giant metal birdbrain. But A for effort. Maybe next time we go up against a giant enemy, you'll be just as motivated." Her smile was a bit more smirky than usual, trying to take the sting out of her jokes. The moment he seemed more affected by it, though, she would stop.

Beth's smile flickered as he nodded to her arm, where her hand had been doing its best to call attention to itself. She stared down and wondered if it was worth the energy to pretend everything was all right. She hadn't exactly confided to others about the lasting damage the birds had done. It was something she was trying to bear on her own. But who was that helping?

With a shaky breath, she pulled the sleeve up over her elbow to show the short, thin, raised red scars littering her forearm. She rubbed one with a thumb. She sorted through the various things she wanted to say. "They look worse than they feel. It's more of the...." She trailed off, wondering what to say. What she felt comfortable saying. What she could lay at his feet without him looking at her like she was crazy. "It can be hard to look at myself in the mirror I just see...these."

Beth held her breath at how gently he was handling her. It was sweet, really, and she tried to keep up her mantra as he examined her. Fortunately, her anxiety about what he might think kept her mind in a loop that made assumptions on his motives impossible. She tried to force a smile, but even to her, it felt flat. "They itch, sometimes. I have them pretty much where ever the feathers punctured...." She trailed off, taking in and letting out a shaky breath with a sigh. "And I mean, I know I didn't get the worst of it, I know I didn't have to stay in the infirmary for a week, and there are people out in the world who'd love to get away with scars that'll probably heal nice and clean. And I know I'm kind of...vain to hope they will. And you know it was my fault, I was too close and kind of paid the price, I guess." She was rambling, she knew, but at Brian's assertion that even with the blemishes he found her beautiful, she stuttered to a stop with a squeak.

She lifted her wide blue eyes to his as he continued to reassure her. The smile she offered him was small but grateful. She wondered at his calm assurance, if he knew from experience or was trained to handle hysterical victims. She didn't see herself as a hysterical victim--or, rather, didn't want him to think of her that way. Such questions into his past, however, were unknown territory. She didn't know how he would react to her prodding, and she was loath to shatter the closeness they had achieved already. So she tried to make it light and said, "Careful there, Brian, you keep feeding me I might decide to follow you home." She giggled at how stupid the line sounded. "I'm sorry, you didn't need this. You probably just wanted someone to spar with." She pulled her sleeve down over the offending scars. "Which I'd be willing to do again...as long as you promise me you'll just make body shot from now on."

Beth grinned and took the offered hand, for once not worried about what it would mean or what she should say. She pulled herself to her feet with his help and after only the briefest pause wrapped her arms around him in a hug. The smell of sweat and physical activity didn't phase her. "Thank you," She breathed. "I know I keep saying it, but....I mean it."