[Training] in the machinery of night

Ophelia

Ophelia is much more of a doer, and they still like a cat on the prowl as Wessex gives instructions and orders in one breath. No pretense of breathing or blinking as they digest and plan, fine-boned hand rotating the handle of the whip idly to feel its weight through their sensors. As Wessex gives them space and breadth, they slither them whip’s end through the fine silt at their feet, letting it expand to its full length and curl back while still upon the ground.

Once they feel satisfied in knowing the length of the whip and the proper rate of retraction of their arm, they strike all at once - snapping the whip at the bottom of the scythe Wessex holds, in an attempt to wrap the top around it and yank it off balance.

With your naive heart you praise God above
But how's it working for you honey? Do you feel loved?