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

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Colt maintained her distance, but it didn’t seem to be coming at any cost. With two quick draws of her quiver, the third rat felt the plunge of it sinking into its legs and back. It shifted momentarily, shaking its head, senses all in shock and surprise, losing her scent momentarily to the overwhelming semblance and sense of pain. It’d give her an instant to gain more traction, before it seemed to quantify the meaning of why it still roamed, turning and twisting the angle of its slower, hampered movements. Well versed in working independently or within a group, given how many wars he’d been immersed within, the Sword continued to ensure neither of them were locked in deadly stakes or menacing proportions. A careful balance, considering the lack of communication between bird and human, but he knew enough to watch, to witness, to take plans and alter them if need be. So Deimos wasted no time in unfurling more catastrophe upon the beasts. The one in his talons felt the last clutches of life as he clenched his grasp into final breaths of air, and then, on another thought, threw the little cretin downwards with a powerful, potent motion of his talons, where the creature eventually hit murky rocks with a devastating thud of broken bones and splattered remains. Two down, two to go. With that thought, he pierced his sight directly upon the second rat once more, and it squeaked with horrifying nuances the moment the lightning split into its skin. Rat 1: 0/356 Rat 2: 110/356 Rat 3: 236/356 Rat 4: 0/356 the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left