On the Edge of Something

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos had the time to snort at Ronin’s roll amidst the ground, and subsequent volley between the pair, brows furrowing slightly as he shook his head. He’d seen the demigod in far worse plights than the blow by blow maneuvers, and though in other circumstances he might apply that primordial dry humor, he’d wait it out after a few more rounds, twists, and turns. His attention remained on Zavien and his impacts, only mildly disappointed that he couldn’t snag the blade from the warrior’s hand. The downward strike applied back to him in turn, however, was dealt with unceremoniously, aiming to deflect, allowing it to slide down the wooden bombardments of the blade. From there, he counter-acted by arcing a swing towards the Stormbreaker’s ribcage. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace