[Training] don't you know i'm not afraid to shed a little blood

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame “Practice,” he mused at first, presuming it would rankle the edges. “I have trained in combative weapons since I was very young.” Once Isilme children were old enough to hold blades and bows, they sprung into their hands from elders, with sharp, blunt orders coursing through notions. “But you also must watch their movements. Sometimes you can predict which way things will maneuver.” And other moments was luck, fortune, and skill. He waited to escalate another volley as Alys purposefully made hers known; creeping closer and closer to the center. “Good,” came along a slight smile, because it had been, and she should’ve been praised for her efforts, even if they were amid distractions. The latter would come in the heat of moments anyway; especially if there were monsters, enemies, or even the simplistic ventures of hunting. Notching his own, and leaving the other arrow in the floating target because it amused him, he narrowed his sights on Neron’s massive forehead. Muscles and power pulled the strand back, before releasing, watching as it cast its mark and weight directly in the center of the effigy’s brow. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace