who we are and all that we're trying to be
The Sword watched with his same calculating demeanor, taking in the brief movements, the blade coming upright, then twisting and turning back towards him. It was an intriguing maneuver, something that seemed like a last-ditch effort (understandable; sometimes battlefield ruminations could only be just that), and he didn’t mind that his siege didn’t come to fruition. It was about the motions, the sagacity, the knowledge, rather than any menace or malice.
At her intentions to cut and slash at his shoulder, however, the beast pivoted. It was just enough to send her blade into the air, brushing at nothing, barely missing the depths of his muscled arm. He’d be curious to see how that rush of momentum would bring her forward; if it escalated issues. If it prevented defenses. From there, he raised his blade, intending to tap its bombardments at her back.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
