My fists are fine, it's just my soul's a little bruised

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Unaware of any other intentions, the Sword’s thoughts remained firmly on vehemence and violence; an outlet for the restless endeavors. The feral beast in his clutches squeaked again, but then drew silent as he grasped firmer, overcome by strength and incapable of hampering Colt below as she worked upon the rat he’d already intended to fell. Briefly amused that she might be striving to take his kill, he waited until her arrow surged further into the little monster, and the Accepted firmly out of the way, before unfurling another pinpointed gaze upon the fourth rat. The lightning surged, crackled, and rippled through the blind cretin, and then it was no more – another piece of the boggy backdrop as it twitched, fell, and succumbed. Its brethren, despite looking like a pin cushion by the weapons sticking out of their sides, didn’t seem wholly bothered by the loss of their kin nor their own pain – and had surged across the quagmire, rampaging closer and closer to where Colt stood. Rat 1: 250/356 Rat 2: 326/356 Rat 3: 326/356 Rat 4: 0/356 the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left