unburned and alive

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Ah, so once the plant had struck, the nettles still tore, still anguished, because of the notions already embedded within skin, flesh, and bone. It wasn’t unlike some weapons in a way; certain arrows notched accordingly so they once they hit an adversary, they stuck fast and hard, incapable of being pulled out and away, ensuring death but perhaps in a slower, more laborious way. “I see,” he added with a nod, grateful for the explanation, but having no real need or want to pursue it. There were other measures stirring within his skull. Wandering further down the path, keeping his eyes to the ground rather than along canopies or groves, the Sword listened gratefully. “I would appreciate it,” a minute smile lodged itself upon his features. “If I can make adequate ones, I will give you some as well.” A fair trade and bargain, even in her insinuations caused a light chuckle. “For hunting, mostly, but with war coming, anything can be utilized.” Particular armaments dipped and tipped in poisons with detrimental effects could turn tides, as well as slow down massive beasts (like frost giants and ursurs – though he’d never seen the former). Punctures and pictures of other seditious, potential acts. “What do you know about sleeping potions?” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace