and the only solution was to stand and fight
There was an inclination of ‘will you’ in the arch of his brow, but he didn’t say it aloud. Sometimes others needed the reasoning of the world around them before they sunk into something as simple as furs or warmth within a realm known for its cold. Halovians had always found ways around it – as far he knew – with everlasting fires and torches to light the way, animal skins from the creatures forged and found amidst the area. To have it lightly refused was an anomaly, but he merely quirked into half a smile again and then tread further into the pathways of cloven hooves and fallen beasts.
Igniting another, as so many others did around them, he listened, stone and fortifications again as he thought, and then lost traces of the stoicism once more as he turned his head back. “Yes. Though gravity magic is also very effective.” Given that she hadn’t used any magic, he could ascertain, unless she’d yet to apply or learn any, that she wasn’t Abandoned. But those incantations could be hardwired into items, as some had elected to do nowadays.
He watched her straighten at the inquiry. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked it, unaware it had deeper ties and meanings. It had only been meant as an anchor to those stories shared – about himself, about those who’d carved their wake into Caido since their arrival – though he found he recognized the titles. Not in well met fixtures, but in surroundings nonetheless. When there’d been hostilities in the Grounds. When they’d been locked behind barriers. When LongNights stretched and called and pierced. “I do recall them, briefly. I do not think we ever actually met.” But they’d all been there. And that accounted for something. “Your mother helped to bring Ronin back.” That much he knew.
As far as measurements coincided, with safety and leavings and shelters, he sighed, flickering more flames into corpses and bones, turning them to ash. “I think you will find most of us are fairly normal,” and he wrinkled his nose; seemingly nothing about legends in the juvenile turn of his features, if one ignored all the scars surrounding it. “But willing to go great lengths to protect these places.” Their people. Their families. Their loved ones. Their friends.
Igniting another, as so many others did around them, he listened, stone and fortifications again as he thought, and then lost traces of the stoicism once more as he turned his head back. “Yes. Though gravity magic is also very effective.” Given that she hadn’t used any magic, he could ascertain, unless she’d yet to apply or learn any, that she wasn’t Abandoned. But those incantations could be hardwired into items, as some had elected to do nowadays.
He watched her straighten at the inquiry. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked it, unaware it had deeper ties and meanings. It had only been meant as an anchor to those stories shared – about himself, about those who’d carved their wake into Caido since their arrival – though he found he recognized the titles. Not in well met fixtures, but in surroundings nonetheless. When there’d been hostilities in the Grounds. When they’d been locked behind barriers. When LongNights stretched and called and pierced. “I do recall them, briefly. I do not think we ever actually met.” But they’d all been there. And that accounted for something. “Your mother helped to bring Ronin back.” That much he knew.
As far as measurements coincided, with safety and leavings and shelters, he sighed, flickering more flames into corpses and bones, turning them to ash. “I think you will find most of us are fairly normal,” and he wrinkled his nose; seemingly nothing about legends in the juvenile turn of his features, if one ignored all the scars surrounding it. “But willing to go great lengths to protect these places.” Their people. Their families. Their loved ones. Their friends.
DEIMOS
