[Training] pulse of a steady beat

Deimos The sea could be a restless endeavor. Or maybe that was his notions, his soul, reflecting upon the tides. He watched, piercing gaze following the curl of sea potency, as it unraveled, as it twisted, as it fell back and receded, only to rise again. Perhaps, pondering, the ways they could do the same – only to stay in their stature, rather than slip into the fold of failure once more. With all the other encompassing news, more strength, more dominion, more calculations would have to be achieved. Cunning, muscle memory, and convictions combined could be lethal, devastating, and undermining for their enemies. And Deimos sincerely doubted Cordelia had ever trained upon this type of terrain; either in Attuned bombardments or normal stature. Turning his head back over his shoulder, long strides had been sweeping outright with no thought to their precision, except stepping over the next dune, the Sword addressed the archer. “What did you want to work on?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

Cordelia

Cordelia could count on her fingers the numbers of time she'd been down to the beach. The most recent having been with Noah. They hadn't been focused on training at the time. There had been too much to discuss. Too many other things to focus on. The hunter trotted up beside him, tightening her grip on her boots and adjusting her bow over her shoulder. "Either sparring or hunting. Not sure what there is to hunt down here, though." Perhaps they could wade into the shallows and try to shoot a few fish to take back to camp.

"What do you want to work on?" The Attuned asked, looking up at the taller man, head cocking to the side as she arched a brow in wait of his response.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Deimos There was a corresponding smirk in response to the notions of hunting. Just the sort of vehemence and violence a restless soul could yearn to encounter, with purpose and motivation behind the assaults and sieges. “Plenty around here,” and his jaw jutted outwards, eyes scanning the horizon. “Hels,” and overhead came the irritating, illustrious cry of the seagulls, screeching over their terrain, looking for their own exasperating opportunities. “Cloud mantas too.” A few of the ray-like creatures bound out of the tide nearby, floating and flickering by for a moment, before sinking and receding back into the waves. “I have heard some stories about them. Supposedly the crystal on their head can be used for breathing underwater.” But he shrugged his shoulders, arching a brow back at the archer, wondering if she’d adhere to the story, and pondering if the locals were just seeing how many newcomers they could have killed off. As for what he wanted to work on? The soldier practiced his multitude of skills frequently – magic, Attuned measures, the expanse of predilections at his disposal. But first and foremost in his mind clustered and coiled. “Precision.” Because no matter how much power one had, it wouldn’t matter if his adversaries couldn’t be hit. “Potentially in one of my shifts.” There was one he’d yet to use, after all, and a part of him kept it under wraps, under tethers, because it felt undeserving. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

Cordelia

She can feel his violent delight at the mention of hunting and Cordelia can't help the way her lips curl into a grin, steps picking up their speed as he lists off a few different possibilities. Hels and Cloud Mantas. Two creatures she's not very familiar with. "Well, isn't that useful." She said of the crystal the mantas carry, thinking it might be good to have on hand in case they ever needed it. Especially if she didn't have a shift of her own to use.

"Perhaps we can find some of our own to hunt? You can work on herding them and I can try to shoot?" Cordelia offered, eyes shifting towards the Cloud Mantas that were frolicking in the waves nearby, seeming to ignore their presence entirely.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Rage, maybe rage would lift me up

The suggestion was enough – the juvenile grin forming all over again. The notion that he’d get to cause and wreak havoc beneath the waves, loosen the restlessness beginning to contort around his veins, manifested in mischievous glee. Additional bonuses would materialize in fresh meat and testing out the crystal, as long as they could snag one. But he’d trust in her abilities.

“All right. Give me a moment.” Settling his bag with his companions, for there would be no need of weaponry, the Sword walked towards an outcropping of rocks, considering the way the manta had been traveling and traversing. Seemingly content, blissfully unaware and ignorant of the potential threat lurking in his being, they persisted in rising out of the waves, flapping for an instant, and then diving back down. As several others rallied, he too dove into the sea.

Shifting instantly into seal-skin, he darted reactively towards where he’d last seen them spring upwards. It was all a matter of movement, motion, and predatory instincts, coasting rapidly as fins dashed and came unrelenting, mouth unhinging, jaw wide in a look of terror from the deep. The prey instantly scattered upwards once more, affording Cordelia a welcome opportunity.

DEIMOS

Cordelia

The hunter wasn't familiar with the skin that he donned as he entered the water and her curiosity was apparent along their shared bond, silently questioning when he came into possession of that shift. However, Cordelia couldn't focus on that for long when the manta were suddenly cresting out of the waves, flapping rapidly in a bout of splashing and flailing, a few landing with loud plops on the surface of the water. Acting quickly, the hunter drew her bow and released an arrow in the same breath, striking true and sending one falling back into the waves.

There is one down! She called along the bond, hoping he might be able to toss it or drag it back towards shore before they made another pass at the creatures.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Rage, maybe rage would lift me up

In and amongst the funnels of her curiosity, he ignored it all for the reaches of minatory precision. Not as ferocious as the hound, but still honed in on tracking the flash of movement, the herald of clarity, the might and menace behind the distinct, predacious focus, his seal form dashed through the tides. Swift and keen, certain and sure, it only took Cordelia’s outcry for him to continue rushing forward, snagging at the felled beast floating atop, and dragging it back to the shoreline. She could snag it at her leisure.

From there he relished returning to the sea’s breadth and waves, ducking beneath its binding courses and turning into its current. Power came on a rush of certainty, witnessing the mantas striving to curl away from where he’d last been. So he came from below, in a rush of fervent, ardent endeavors, ascending in quick shifts and bites, promising a threat from the fathoms, as much as Cordelia presented from land.

The rays would have nowhere to go but up – unless they yearned to be at the mercy of his jaws. Another set of three, in their panicked oblivion, did just that, rising to the surface and attempting to scatter amongst the sky, leaving them wide open for another assault.

DEIMOS

Cordelia

The first ray was brought to the shore and Cordelia moved quickly to grab it, dragging it up so it wouldn’t be taken by the waves again, amber eyes flicking out to the sea where Deimos was still lurking. The Attuned jogged back down to the edge of the water, drawing another arrow from her quiver, knocking it on her string and waiting with bated breath for the next surge of movement. She didn’t have to wait long. Not with Deimos terrorizing the rays that chose to stay instead of flee.

Three attempted to get away from him above the water, but she was there waiting for them. Her arrow flew, piercing through the eye of another as the two frantically attempted to change direction once more.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Rage, maybe rage would lift me up

The Sword quite enjoyed the chasing of prey; a haunting outcry and return to Reaper tendencies long, long before, in another life and another time. As if they were the condemned, brought to slaughter beneath his demolition. As if they were those who’d threatened his land, and he’d come to return the favor. As if they were lingering adversaries, enemies and heathens where he’d sought eternal revenge. A very fiendish sort of glee settled over him as he dashed again, as he watched another fall from his viewpoint under the undulation of waves, satisfied, content, before going to intercept the other scattered remnants.

How many more do you want? interrupted the chaotic semblances for half a moment, enough human left in him to consider and contemplate, before returning to the carnivore wakes. The two that had escaped Cordelia’s arrows had grown even more frantic up ahead, maybe tired, maybe already exhausted, from their panicked flights and leaps. Several times they returned to the tides, and in each turn he snapped his jaws and promised condemnation; and they’d rise, but lower and lower and lower, flaps growing weaker, pivotal points closer and closer.

DEIMOS

Cordelia

Deimos's words echoed through her mind and she grit her teeth for a moment, feeling a flare of irritation at not being able to respond the way she wanted to, but instead she called out in hopes he'll hear her. "Two or three more. We can trade some in the market." Cordelia called out, voice loud over the waves that crashed against the shore, bringing their last kill closer to her. She took a shot at one of the two Deimos continued to antagonize, loosing another arrow and striking this one in the gut, sending it back into the water for Deimos to retrieve once he was ready.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Rage, maybe rage would lift me up

He could hear her vaguely; soft insistences above and below the waves, rather than the clarity of the bond. With no seal brow to furrow, the beast simply, swiftly, went after the one she felled – repeating the process as before, grasping hold of it tight in his jaws, and making it to the shoreline with it in his mouth. He permitted some feral sort of snicker to bombard through the Attuned measures, before leaving it amongst the sand, committed once more to the hunt.

The few remaining, labored and exhausted, seemed more than inclined to drift amidst the undulations; spying them lingering amongst the current. One had the wherewithal to glance behind it, to see him churning through the water, but it was too late to do much else – teeth tightly closing over fins and wings and scales. Eventually, this one came towards the embankment too – though far more mangled than the others.

DEIMOS

Cordelia

It's all repetition at this point. They're a well oiled machine. Deimos collected the fallen Cloud Manta, bringing it back to shore before continuing to pursue those still in the water, too tired to flee from him. Cordelia waited until they breached the surface, sending an arrow into some part of their body all for Deimos to drag them to shore all over again, starting the cycle anew. It isn't until they've collected about five, both of them having done their fair share of work, that Cordelia is satisfied with their accomplishment.

"I think we have enough." The hunter shouted towards the waves, hoping he could hear her as she put away her last arrow, kneeling down to inspect their bounty.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Deimos The only intonation he caught below the funneling and tunneling of the waves was enough, and it signified exactly that for him. Within a moment, his head was above the water, shifted and churned, no longer seal but entirely human. He rose out of the depths, soaked and completely indifferent, following after the other portions, grabbing hold of any remaining mantas, and placing them amongst the fold. While dripping water over the sand, he snagged at a few, inspecting and perusing the amount they’d managed to gather in silence. Belial came hastening over with absolute wonder and glee, and the Sword had to ward him off more than once while gazing, lifting, or snagging at the mantas. “This one should be good enough,” and he granted Cordelia a moment to gaze upon it – and the aforementioned jewel. “We could try it and see.” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

Cordelia

Cordelia joined Deimos on the shore, crouching in the sand to inspect their bounty, noting the size of some and thinking they would surely get a good amount of meat off of them. Probably some fat too if they went through the trouble. Belial made a nuisance of themselves and Cordelia dug a bit of jerky out of her pocket for their trouble when Deimos shooed them away for the third time. Only when he held up the jewel did her attention return to him, amber eyes studying the gem curiously, "Do you just hold on to it or wear it around your neck?"

Did the gem itself hold the ability or did one have to craft with it? Cordelia was unsure, but willing to give it a try either way.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be