Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
Catalina absorbed Deimos' words, her expression softening as a meek smile tugged at her lips. She nodded slightly, acknowledging the wisdom in his statement. "You're right," she admitted, her voice carrying a trace of self-reflection.
"I guess the perfectionist in me sets these ridiculously high expectations... but I think that's pretty common." There was a hint of vulnerability in her tone as she tightened her grip around the staff, the wooden weapon feeling foreign but solid in her hands. His mention of wooden swords prompted a stifled laugh from her, the thought of training with real blades and not losing a finger making perfect sense now.
When Deimos shifted the conversation to warming up, Catalina’s mind briefly conjured an image of literal flames before she blinked, realizing he meant stretching. She hadn’t expected that, given how warm she already felt beneath her layers of clothing. Still, as he began his routine, she followed along with a nod, acknowledging the logic.
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, remembering the long days of chopping wood back home, where muscle aches were inevitable if she didn’t prepare herself properly.
Without hesitation, she mirrored his motions, performing an assortment of stretches that targeted her shoulders, arms, and legs. The familiar pull of her muscles reminded her of those strenuous tasks she’d done countless times. Despite her initial nerves, her body moved with a surprising nimbleness, her flexibility coming naturally as she bent and twisted with ease. Her first goal? To avoid injuring herself right at the start of her training.
"I guess the perfectionist in me sets these ridiculously high expectations... but I think that's pretty common." There was a hint of vulnerability in her tone as she tightened her grip around the staff, the wooden weapon feeling foreign but solid in her hands. His mention of wooden swords prompted a stifled laugh from her, the thought of training with real blades and not losing a finger making perfect sense now.
When Deimos shifted the conversation to warming up, Catalina’s mind briefly conjured an image of literal flames before she blinked, realizing he meant stretching. She hadn’t expected that, given how warm she already felt beneath her layers of clothing. Still, as he began his routine, she followed along with a nod, acknowledging the logic.
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, remembering the long days of chopping wood back home, where muscle aches were inevitable if she didn’t prepare herself properly.
Without hesitation, she mirrored his motions, performing an assortment of stretches that targeted her shoulders, arms, and legs. The familiar pull of her muscles reminded her of those strenuous tasks she’d done countless times. Despite her initial nerves, her body moved with a surprising nimbleness, her flexibility coming naturally as she bent and twisted with ease. Her first goal? To avoid injuring herself right at the start of her training.
Catalina
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath
But you'll always follow the voices beneath
