and the only solution was to stand and fight
Any talk had never really been his thing, but he didn’t say that either. Maybe before wars and death, when he hadn’t been trained or resolved to be guarded, hidden, and fortified. He gave her a slight grin, as if to appease and ease the apprehension in either himself or her, shrugging his shoulders and releasing that bout once more into the ether. In years separating these moments, he wouldn’t have been able to discuss any of it; too raw, too real, too new, too wholly opened once more in lacerations and bruises and scars that refused to ever close. “It is all right. I know how it feels to want answers. Or a way to commit to something.” Often he could find pathways – sometimes through machinations, others through time and space and the ability to withstand when so many others couldn’t. Patience, he supposed, had hastened many of his rewards and sacrifices.
He ignited a few more leftover corpses, before she started on the drier aspects of intonations. He glanced back over at her, in one of those ‘am I hearing this right’ sort of instances, snorting. Zuriel echoed, but gave the youth far more side-eye, conveying her impressions with a shake of her head and maneuvering several strides away. “I can tell,” to which he wrinkled his nose, giving her some juvenility over her own. “Have you seen much else of Halo?” He wouldn't want corpses to be the core memory of this region.
He ignited a few more leftover corpses, before she started on the drier aspects of intonations. He glanced back over at her, in one of those ‘am I hearing this right’ sort of instances, snorting. Zuriel echoed, but gave the youth far more side-eye, conveying her impressions with a shake of her head and maneuvering several strides away. “I can tell,” to which he wrinkled his nose, giving her some juvenility over her own. “Have you seen much else of Halo?” He wouldn't want corpses to be the core memory of this region.
DEIMOS
