ISKRA
A laugh shakes free at Damien's acceptance of the idea, head tilting back a bit with the force of it. "You might have to hold onto that interest, not quite ready for a performance yet." A shrug offered then, like a new notion arrived. "Who knows, could talk Deimos into some handy artwork during the annual deepfrost festival here." A favored tradition if he does say so.
"Ahhh, hunting" he says with a knowing nod as his arms fold against his chest, leaning back on his heels as he settles for the conversation. "Do it from time to time myself, but more partial to whittling pieces of wood that catch my eye." Like anyone, he knows enough to survive and pitch in, but Goose is admittedly the better hunter of the two. The whittling doesn't have much benefit except soothing his mind and burning time, something he's always needed in equal measure, and he finds it more absorptive than the quiet wandering to take a life, a pattern that allows too many of his darker thoughts to surface. "More liable to be the one getting hunted out here," Iskra agrees, knowing, as he's sure Damien does too, that where prey is scarce the predators that do linger become more bold. This certainly seems like a place ursurs might haunt when swapping from fish to forest creature for their menu.
His head tilts at the offer of a spar though, a curious twitch curling up one edge of his mouth. As long as they've known each other, kept on the fringes of work and in passing, he did not expect their moment of bonding to be over fighting. Then again, Iskra had not done much fighting ever, or much bonding, so perhaps after all these years he's finally learning how adults make friends, a challenge he never had as a child. "Sure," Iskra agrees, his hands falling back to his side as he more properly angles towards Damien. "Since neither of us can heal, I'm guessing?" He arches a 'brow in question, never certain who has picked up what new trick in their walks amongst Caido. "Perhaps best if we stick to hand to hand."
He'd received some lessons in his youth from his very capable parents, and had watched soldiers in the barracks, using it as exercise more than a warrior's regiment, so he could at least hold his own. One foot slides back, weight balancing over his legs in preparedness, gaze set on Damien. "When you're ready."
"Ahhh, hunting" he says with a knowing nod as his arms fold against his chest, leaning back on his heels as he settles for the conversation. "Do it from time to time myself, but more partial to whittling pieces of wood that catch my eye." Like anyone, he knows enough to survive and pitch in, but Goose is admittedly the better hunter of the two. The whittling doesn't have much benefit except soothing his mind and burning time, something he's always needed in equal measure, and he finds it more absorptive than the quiet wandering to take a life, a pattern that allows too many of his darker thoughts to surface. "More liable to be the one getting hunted out here," Iskra agrees, knowing, as he's sure Damien does too, that where prey is scarce the predators that do linger become more bold. This certainly seems like a place ursurs might haunt when swapping from fish to forest creature for their menu.
His head tilts at the offer of a spar though, a curious twitch curling up one edge of his mouth. As long as they've known each other, kept on the fringes of work and in passing, he did not expect their moment of bonding to be over fighting. Then again, Iskra had not done much fighting ever, or much bonding, so perhaps after all these years he's finally learning how adults make friends, a challenge he never had as a child. "Sure," Iskra agrees, his hands falling back to his side as he more properly angles towards Damien. "Since neither of us can heal, I'm guessing?" He arches a 'brow in question, never certain who has picked up what new trick in their walks amongst Caido. "Perhaps best if we stick to hand to hand."
He'd received some lessons in his youth from his very capable parents, and had watched soldiers in the barracks, using it as exercise more than a warrior's regiment, so he could at least hold his own. One foot slides back, weight balancing over his legs in preparedness, gaze set on Damien. "When you're ready."
It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again
