[se] evolve or repeat

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

New responsibilities failed to keep the Sword away from the barracks (not much would). Still believing Halo’s militaristic might to be an encouraging and growing platitude, he deigned points of his duty to be continually structured around the sway and practice of the warriors. And perhaps, in some part, it was where he was the most comfortable – a home amongst weapons and shields, targets and climbing walls; safety for safety, shelter for shelter.

Today was an encouragement in ensuring the catapults were still in working order. It’d been a long time since they’d been utilized, and dragging them out along the range of the Citadel wall (where he intended for their group to fire them over the ramparts and see the residual span and scope) wielded several paces of inspection. Before long, some measure of rot was discovered amidst the wood, and repairs were firmly established between himself and the more mechanically inclined of the combatants.

Earthen incantations roamed along frames of timber, carving their nuances into newly reformed proportions – and that was where anyone roaming by the soldiers and Sword alike would spy them – tools at their feet in the snow, gloves tossed aside, and banter flickering back and forth amidst the work.

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead

"Special delivery for the General," a familiar voice rang out as a pale dragon circled lazily overhead. The dragon angled downward, rumbling a warble of greeting as she banked in for a landing in the soft snow, and a few minutes later her companion trotted towards the wall surrounding the Citadel and the various weapons of war under repair there.

Tal grinned and ducked his head at the laughing calls of greeting that rang out from some of the soldiers, pleased at the recognition even if he didn't know quite how to respond beyond an awkward wave of his free hand.

The other carried an insulated bag from which the occasional wisp of steam escaped as he slowed to a halt beside his friend and threw a tolerable attempt at a salute, wrinkling his nose as he looked up at the taller man and tried to keep a solemn expression on his face. "You're gonna want t'sit down for this one," he suggested, pale eyes merry and bright.