DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
“Likely easier when someone is tossing something at you,” and that way she could learn to deflect, push off and away, or guard with more reason and motive to the movements. He would’ve offered, but she’d probably already had enough of a day – and he’d learned over the years to not unfurl relentlessly on others. Unless they were opponents, adversaries, or enemies; of which Sohalia clearly was not. “There are many who would be willing to practice with you.” Newer recruits and soldiers, those who understood what it was like to be greener, inexperienced. “Starting tomorrow,” he emphasized with a slight grin, to ward off the lessons until she was beyond any of the moments’ traumatic experiences. “I have barracks in Halo, but there should be some training areas in the Grounds and Torchline too.” That he’d created and left for the world to utilize.
Head tilting, he almost snorted at the inquiry, but the question was a valid one. “It is coated with a special resin.” Much the same as he’d orchestrated and created with the training devices amidst his own armory; so they could be efficient and well-kept despite any elements, save for one. “Just keep it away from fire.” Or she simply wouldn’t have a shield for much longer.
Head tilting, he almost snorted at the inquiry, but the question was a valid one. “It is coated with a special resin.” Much the same as he’d orchestrated and created with the training devices amidst his own armory; so they could be efficient and well-kept despite any elements, save for one. “Just keep it away from fire.” Or she simply wouldn’t have a shield for much longer.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
