The presented gift

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Sascha’s ability to see the grandeur in everything would hopefully remain along this infernal existence. Perhaps they all needed a different outlook, a different outset, from all the other deadly, infernal, soulless parameters constantly reeling and raining down upon them. Another half-smile wore its way to his mouth, and he cleaned up the last of the targets, nodding towards the notion of learning. Caido was certainly a teacher in many ways: survival, persistence, and devastation amongst a litany of its subjects. But if Sascha could hone in his abilities, could become better, brighter, and more capable, then that was one more individual capable of combatting the onslaught of torture, annihilation, and abhorrence. His eyes went to the chick again, another billowing snort following a shaking head. He wasn’t certain what that level of summoning could provide, or what the little animal could do for the moment, but maybe that wasn’t the point. Usefulness had other outlets, and as he maneuvered along the training grounds, through the barracks, expecting Sascha to follow, he pondered it. Maybe it was just to be a lighter segment in a world so callously, so harshly, defined by its chaos. The question hit him as they set along the streets, curling along avenues towards the aforementioned college. “Loren Launceleyn,” he paused for a moment, considering the disowning of the name, then shrugged. “He can summon animals too. Though much larger.” Like…bears. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace