[Training] [se] these years of infinity

Deimos A word of protest began to shift behind his teeth, mostly at the whole name thing again, but in the interim he opted to shake his head and roll his eyes, bemused all the same. He flickered his thoughts and notions into the training instead, compelled to listen to the call to arms and hesitation behind attacks. It was an intriguing notion – to wait for an enemy to befall such an armament, but the Sword could understand where Darkeye was coming from. It was all about the timing, the precision, and the ability to catch one’s adversary well in advance. He watched the demonstration – taking in not only the measures behind the older man’s very brief, minute movements, but the consideration in applying his motions towards the target. Swift and keen. So he nodded his understanding, and then approached the target, intending to mimic the same actions; a swipe for the gut, chest, and neck. Not unlike the blade in such a machination – striving to snag at every opportunity, not wasting time, and applying whatever one could before their opponent could reach and siege. The weapon was longer than he was used to, however, even after wielding with a staff for a time. Then he stepped aside, waiting for the next set of instructions, but not without queries of his own. “Do you opt to defend yourself in some way? To avoid these weakened points?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime