To transport some wood

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Unaware of the man’s uneasiness about potential duels and skirmishes, and because the Sword faced them head-on habitually, he offered descriptions of potentials. “If you do not prefer practicing in spars, we have quite a few targets, weights, and a climbing wall.” Figuring those were enough options for now, and leaving out the morning routine of jogging patrols, they persisted on the delivery list. Parting ways for a moment, Deimos made his knock on the door, received his greetings, extended his own wares, and returned, arching a brow again as Eternum seemed…tired with the effort, but willing. “Only a few left, but we can go to yours next.” Considering it was on the way; and the Sword dragged the sled along once more. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace