Hayseed pounces, and all the doubt goes away.

In those rarified moments before her quarterstaff impacts the base of her foe's skull, everything feels electric. Her skin tingles, her pupils dilate, the tension coagulates into bundles of maximum possible force. She is elated. She is enraptured.

It all comes back: every moment spent perched on a roof, or busting through hired security, or standing toe-to-toe with a Dreamer, all of the glories and delights of fieldwork . . . it's all too sweet to refuse.

I can never go back behind a desk again.

THWACK

"Hiya! What's your name, sweetie?"

She darts into the bamboo once more, slipping into cover and surveying her foe delightedly.

She didn't track me! Ha! I've still got it!

Spoiler: OOC
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All rolls done in the wrong OOC, but done nonetheless.