and the only solution was to stand and fight
The Sword had spent all of several days home, before flying back out towards the Greatwood – this time, perhaps in hopes of gaining something out of all the political machinations. He’d prefer solidified plans nowadays over anything too speculative or wandering in circles. Definitive. Tangible. Forthright. But he didn’t know much about Jack, nor his motivations; save for distant meetings across fires, happenstance, or those shelters once carved into the Fingers before wars.
So his eyes narrowed at the ship, carefully scrutinizing it, and then on the crew as he arrived and was shown to the meeting area. He withheld a snort though; typically it was him at his desk, waiting for more to come bother or grant him letters he didn’t particularly want to read or answer, while plotting out the next courses of action. Maybe they’d have the latter anyway. “Morning,” he offered, standing stalwart and stoic, waiting for something else to unravel.
So his eyes narrowed at the ship, carefully scrutinizing it, and then on the crew as he arrived and was shown to the meeting area. He withheld a snort though; typically it was him at his desk, waiting for more to come bother or grant him letters he didn’t particularly want to read or answer, while plotting out the next courses of action. Maybe they’d have the latter anyway. “Morning,” he offered, standing stalwart and stoic, waiting for something else to unravel.
DEIMOS
