Meti
This was impossibly peaceful. She would need a moment before even beginning to pay attention to what was actually happening. Right now all that she needed was to act in a way befitting of a blade. Then the feeling began to slowly, inevitably vanish.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I'll prove it! You can feel how much this means to me! Let me show you!
She held the sword and for a moment surveyed the area. There were enough people around, that curious instinct to watch keeping them here when one should run still remaining. She raised her arm and devoted herself in totality to the blade in her hand. Her hand was a hand that was cutting, her arm an arm that was cutting, her body a body that was cutting, her mind a mind that was cutting. Within that moment she became an extension of the sword in her hand, a pure will alloyed to its own.
Meti burst towards the crowd, ready to carve apart every person in her way.