On the Edge of Something

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos wasn’t instantly transported to childhood brawls or ridiculous melees, but it certainly had the correspondence of days of youth – or even ongoings throughout his own barracks. But he wasn’t going to be felled by sweeping legs, as he might’ve been in the past, permitting a small measure of laughter to pass through his lungs as he side-stepped away from Zavien’s fallen attempts. Had he been closer, he might’ve attempted to step right on the wooden training blade, but instead, he had to counter and block Ronin’s incoming spear. Casting his own sword sideways for a moment so it snagged at the practice instrument, he ducked to the right thereafter, taking an opportunity to try and hit Ronin at the knee. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace