We've been shown how not to live by gracious kings of old
The hunter's keen senses picked up on the shift in Deimos’ magic before he ever made contact, the way the air tightened and the earth reinforced beneath it, the fire threading through both until the Warden stood at the center of something far more dangerous than before. Noah drove forward anyway, committing fully to the strike. His shoulder met the maelstrom. The collision was immediate and unforgiving. Wind slammed into him first, knocking the breath from his lungs, while the reinforced earth behind it struck like a solid wall. The fire followed a heartbeat later, curling and snapping along the exposed edges of his skin—his neck, his hands—leaving sharp, stinging burns in its wake.
The force lifted him clean off his feet and sent him crashing back onto the hard packed training ground. The impact jarred through his body, rough and disorienting, his breath gone again as he hit hard. Heat and cold collided across his skin as embers hissed out against the frost. But Noah had never stayed down easily. He rolled onto his side and forced himself up, dragging in a harsh breath as he pushed to one knee and then to his feet. The burns bit at him, raw and insistent, but he ignored them, shoulders squaring as his gaze locked back onto Deimos, lifting his hand up to yeild.
Noah had come into it knowing he had no chance of winning. That wasn't what it was about. Noah had no pride to sting, no standing to have fallen from. He wasn't here to prove anything except to Safrin. Standing with a groan, the Sentinel crossed back over to Deimos. Once the warden released his hold on his magic, Noah would reach out to shake his hand in a simple, thankful gesture. "A unicorn shift is what I am working towards, with healing magic." He tilted his head slightly to indicate where Deimos' magic had burned him. It wasn't harsh, or too severe, but there was a sting nontheless.
4/4
The force lifted him clean off his feet and sent him crashing back onto the hard packed training ground. The impact jarred through his body, rough and disorienting, his breath gone again as he hit hard. Heat and cold collided across his skin as embers hissed out against the frost. But Noah had never stayed down easily. He rolled onto his side and forced himself up, dragging in a harsh breath as he pushed to one knee and then to his feet. The burns bit at him, raw and insistent, but he ignored them, shoulders squaring as his gaze locked back onto Deimos, lifting his hand up to yeild.
Noah had come into it knowing he had no chance of winning. That wasn't what it was about. Noah had no pride to sting, no standing to have fallen from. He wasn't here to prove anything except to Safrin. Standing with a groan, the Sentinel crossed back over to Deimos. Once the warden released his hold on his magic, Noah would reach out to shake his hand in a simple, thankful gesture. "A unicorn shift is what I am working towards, with healing magic." He tilted his head slightly to indicate where Deimos' magic had burned him. It wasn't harsh, or too severe, but there was a sting nontheless.
4/4
NOAH
