[Training] [se] now what's in store

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The itch to start refurbishing the barracks was there, right in the lines of his spine and the pit of his soul. But with nothing official notched anywhere, he simply stoked the fringes and boundaries of the building itself, inspecting, drawing up notes and parchments for…reasons, before wandering further into the midst. He was half-inclined to stand along the roof as he’d done so often in earlier days, staring out over the expanse, eyes drawn to the eaves, streets, and walls below; surveillance of a world he enjoyed. However, instead, he began lining up various targets. The training grounds were in fair use, arching a brow at several soldiers who were occupied with some of the bow and arrow bullseyes – biting his tongue when he felt the need to correct a few of their stances. Thereafter, instead of taking up his habitual blade, he went for a spear, attempting to mimic the movements from previous seasons, where Darkeye had given him some instruction. Not one to ignore education and sagacity, he hurled it at the first, watching it conform deeply into a makeshift shoulder wound along the effigy. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace