[SE] In the spirit of the age

DEIMOS

Back to bemusements, and not some pressing wake of untouched anguish, the Sword continued to inflict his smirk and snicker into the backdrop. “We were training.” By way of explanations, as if this made it all the better to land his fist into Loren’s nose, and break it. Satisfying, in a way, of brutalizing the smug adornments. “He had a very punchable face.” Not insinuating she should agree, though many others probably would. “But he healed it right away, so no harm done.” Another shrug of his shoulders as they walked, pressing into the obsidian floor, affixing his eyes to the trail she indicated. “And he was always willing to help.” In any circumstance, it seemed.

Over the crest, following after proportions rising, gave a glimpse into a void down below. Some stray pumpkins, bumbling and rumbling their way around the solidified layer of once-hot magma, and another creature he’d yet to see before. Crocodilian would be the best word to describe it; much like the swamp dwellers, only clearly crusted over with rock and ancient, primordial lava – an opposing counterpart. “I am not familiar with that animal,” jutting his jaw in its direction, though his murmur was quiet, uncertain just how stealthy, swift, or quick the fauna was. There were always a range of abilities to ensure their safety, but he also had no inclination of aggravating the thing.

i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky