[se] in the armory of your soul

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Within a matter of moments, the barrage came back down upon him – hound ears taking the brunt, disappearing, and then the rest flickering into his hair, his scalp, and down the reaches of his neck. A wild, exuberant laugh volleyed again as he shook much like a dog, rounding and echoing off the glacial walls, not bothered in the least. These were moments long since lost before; spirited and ridiculous, lighthearted and silly, and it wasn’t often they’d get to return to these filaments. Not with everything else pending. Indifferent to the structure’s press now, the Sword stood taller for an instant, launching a pair of snowballs directly towards Noah, intending to overwhelm. Rallying again, he ducked back down to manifest two more, and propelled them in the direction Morgan’s snowball had come from; presuming he’d been somewhat correct in his earlier calculations. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace