I'm getting tired of starting again

Deimos Blade tucked back into his belt, he maneuvered the target back into its original stature as best he could, likely more repair work needed at another time, attention still riveted and deviated on Maea’s arrival; the words lingering around his mind in some air of bewilderment. He didn’t expect her to come stand on the precipice of combat, readily giving into some torrent of either violence, defense, or assault (sometimes all; when the vitriol took hold, when boldness was no longer so far gone). Then again, perhaps it’d been the shifting times in the world, after they’d shaken off Zariah (only to have her return), after heaps of sieges upon themselves during LongNight, after the debacle at Fiat Lux. Maybe all of them should’ve been taking remedial lessons in how to survive and live in the unrelenting world, biting into the danger, into the treachery, and unfurling their own. That was what he’d built the barracks for anyway. For all of them – to learn, to rampage, to safeguard, protect their own. This was his role too, to ensure they could and would. A diversion from anything else cluttering his mind. She approached, and the General glanced down, crossing his arms over his chest in quiet, careful study. She was small, and what was forsaken in power and strength could be combined into swiftness, dashing, drawing, extension of arms and limbs, then rushing out of the way of another torrent. It just depended on how she intended to fight. “What did you want to use?” Weapons? Her fists? Everything all at once? Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime