No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight
"Who knows," Koa groans, sniffing as dust buffets his nose. "'Bad Guys From the Sky for Dummies?'" He takes a step away from Zavien and the unearthed cloud of dust. Hands on his hips, Koa rotates his shoulders, wincing as his back lets out an audible crack that echoes like gunshot through the quiet stacks.
"I've been going through the ones we already grabbed, but nothing's looking promising." It's been his part of the task: take notes on the books they've found that might have something good. So far, absolutely no dice. It feels like they've been doing this forever, and yet they haven't found a single written word about their foes. "You got anything else?" It's like chasing ghosts, and Koa - never a scholar to begin with - is nearing the end of his limited patience, tired of this fruitless pursuit.
"I've been going through the ones we already grabbed, but nothing's looking promising." It's been his part of the task: take notes on the books they've found that might have something good. So far, absolutely no dice. It feels like they've been doing this forever, and yet they haven't found a single written word about their foes. "You got anything else?" It's like chasing ghosts, and Koa - never a scholar to begin with - is nearing the end of his limited patience, tired of this fruitless pursuit.
Koa
