Steelsong

For most of Caido what Soh said was true. Certainly in the Hollowed Grounds Accepted and Attuned had been favored by both society and the gods (and the link there had been undeniable) for as long as the Barrier had held, and some habits died hard. But Tal was a child of Halo, where Abandoned magic had provided an edge in a world where the gods were silent, and Attuned senses made for hunters no mere Accepted could match. The world had turned, and changed, but a lifetime's worth of envy didn't wash away in a single year or even three, and Tal had to duck his head against the flush that threatened to redden his ears and neck at his friend's staunch defense.

"I... thanks, Soh," he mumbled, abashed and not sure how to respond with any grace. At least her apology was something he knew what to do with and he shook his head sharply before focusing on the knife once more. Skirrr. Skirrr, went the blade over the stone. "Y'got nothin' t'be sorry for."

Knives? Knives! His shoulders eased and his expression lightened though he kept his eyes on his work. "Yeah! We can do some trainin' after this, if y'want?" He lifted his Dagger to inspect both edges and nodded in satisfaction. "I'm pretty much done here. D'you have any butter knives back at your place? We can use those for practicin'." Better than risking an accidental slice with a real weapon!