a wordless treatise on mortality by jinxinyi, literature
a wordless treatise on mortality
a faint pow from far off has zharik snapping his head upward, glancing around for whatever had caused it. a moment later, a flash of blueish light from far off, and the same sound, which he was then able to identify as a tracer shank. fallen patrol. too far off to be a threat, but too close to where he doesn't want to remain still for too long. the exo hastily shoves the communicator into his pocket, rising to his feet and keeping acrius held in both hands as he gets on the move. it's just as well. he really has no reply for the guardian, whatever her name is. he never asked. should he have?
truthfully, he's still unsure how he feels about h