First blood? A kinder arena than Scrapwall had hosted, and Jigano dodged nimbly back from fully engaging Deimos' larger blade at the Fae announcer's cry. The staff had been meant as a distraction to buy him time while he closed, not a definitive attack, but he was in no state of mind to argue with the decision. In many ways it was a relief; as unusually good as the outlet of violence felt, his confused emotional state at seeing those he had let down who had turned on him so quickly in the basement in recent weeks past ignited a restless anger in him, only some of which was directed at them.
The same summer sickness that had left him too ill to lead his friends back to the Spire - if any would still have followed him - seemed to have stolen his tongue, for he said nothing to Deimos as he retrieved his staff, wiped the blood from its tip upon the sand, and turned to walk away, heading back to the tunnels and whatever trial would await next within the Cloister. Isuma swooped down to flutter an apologetic circle around the big man, golden eyes worried as she peeped once, softly, at him and Zuriel before she hurried after her companion to land on his shoulder and rub her cheek against his, as if to try and thaw some of the ice from his eyes.
The same summer sickness that had left him too ill to lead his friends back to the Spire - if any would still have followed him - seemed to have stolen his tongue, for he said nothing to Deimos as he retrieved his staff, wiped the blood from its tip upon the sand, and turned to walk away, heading back to the tunnels and whatever trial would await next within the Cloister. Isuma swooped down to flutter an apologetic circle around the big man, golden eyes worried as she peeped once, softly, at him and Zuriel before she hurried after her companion to land on his shoulder and rub her cheek against his, as if to try and thaw some of the ice from his eyes.
