DEIMOS
the fire can't touch me
for I have burned too many times
for I have burned too many times
The Sword did manage to muffle a laugh as he caught her looking him over from the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was an innocent, innocuous glance, one to survey weaknesses, scrutinize potential layers where a hammer could do the worst damage. But he was rarely permitted a moment to tease or taunt the Warden, and did so with a juvenile, boyish ease, an arch of his brow. “Do not get distracted,” and then he sidled away, with an air of indifference and reticence once more.
Battle-forged, he twisted the pommel and hilt of his sword in his hand, fitting it into the callouses, the weight, the pulse and bridges of impending maneuvers. He motioned towards the ring upon stone floors, a place where armaments could be tested, actions could be weighed. “All right,” consisted with an acceptance of the inevitable (making no mention of the months where he’d been Warden – how he’d come here at alternating hours and continued his training, how he would never let those portions of his soul go – the vehemence, the violence, the preparation).
Then he waited, taking his preferred stance, eyes glinting at the hammer, until she came into the marked sanction as well. Only thereafter, when they were both ready, did he swiftly launch forward, attempting to swing the blade towards her hip, intending to see how quickly, how steadfast, she could be with defenses and maneuvers. A test, an examination, a gesture of parameters and prowess.
Battle-forged, he twisted the pommel and hilt of his sword in his hand, fitting it into the callouses, the weight, the pulse and bridges of impending maneuvers. He motioned towards the ring upon stone floors, a place where armaments could be tested, actions could be weighed. “All right,” consisted with an acceptance of the inevitable (making no mention of the months where he’d been Warden – how he’d come here at alternating hours and continued his training, how he would never let those portions of his soul go – the vehemence, the violence, the preparation).
Then he waited, taking his preferred stance, eyes glinting at the hammer, until she came into the marked sanction as well. Only thereafter, when they were both ready, did he swiftly launch forward, attempting to swing the blade towards her hip, intending to see how quickly, how steadfast, she could be with defenses and maneuvers. A test, an examination, a gesture of parameters and prowess.
the sea can't harm me
for I have been drowning all my life
for I have been drowning all my life
