[Training] you can be rest assured

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

Deimos had long since shrugged out of his own furs, casting them aside while he worked on the mobile target, stages of warm-up already coiled through his veins. His eyes went automatically to the bits and pieces of flame the Sage sought to conjure, the rumble of his own onslaught taking shape in the back of his mind; the rush of an ocean, the beating drums of tides, rapaciously curling over sands and earth. “Not yet,” in reply to Jigano’s inquiry, figuring the Loreseeker would have some realm of sagacity, knowledge, or at least deeper insinuations. Perhaps it was another grand mystery, yet to be overturned or solved. Maybe they’d merely learn it along the way, as they had done with nearly everything else Caido had slung towards them.

His attention riveted back to magic and manifestations, face void of anything but the nature of the moment – reticent and concentrated, brows furrowed, waiting, anticipating. The two part torrent of flames was clever, and he was forced to sidestep out of the range of the embers coiling towards him, though it still managed to singe at his boots, a snort volleying in between as he shook his left foot, then stomped it into nearby snow, waiting for the burning sensation to cease.

In retaliation, the beast launched a massive wave of water, meant to soak, defuse, and bombard any notion of Jigano’s flaming shield.

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead