"Careful where you swing that thing!" The gravelly voice comes from a grey-haired old man who emerges from the shadows of the barracks wall. Muscular despite his obvious age, the man stalks toward the general, his arms crossed over his chest.
He stops beside Deimos, prodding the thoroughly battered dummy distastefully with his foot. "Wasteful. In my day we practiced with real opponents - but we weren't as soft as you young folk are." There's a terrible, choking noise from deep in his throat. Turning his head to the side, he spits a huge wad of mucus into the grass. "Say, aren't you that so-called general? I've a bone to pick with you."
He stops beside Deimos, prodding the thoroughly battered dummy distastefully with his foot. "Wasteful. In my day we practiced with real opponents - but we weren't as soft as you young folk are." There's a terrible, choking noise from deep in his throat. Turning his head to the side, he spits a huge wad of mucus into the grass. "Say, aren't you that so-called general? I've a bone to pick with you."
helpful citizen
