Snippet #1486123

Sweat clung to the deep humans form. He felt very much at home, the tent dulling what light could break through the rainclouds above. It was dank, and slightly muggy and it felt like home. The wooden dummy was very defeated now, Kisikoni's arms were red with all the colliding he did with the hardwood surface. Shaking his arms, the focus faded from his head as he started to feel his arms throb. He grinned, despite the pain for reasons he could not put touch on. He looked outside- it was still raining. He donned his jacket, and walked outside. Instantly, the humid air of the tent faded as the rain cooled the area around him. He walked through the alleys of the tents, the rain dousing his jacket. He took care not to chill himself, because that's what his family believed caused sickness- an imbalance in the temperature of the body.

So, when he saw Talae running along the perimeter of the camp, he worried. However, they were all in peak physical condition, so he decided not to call her out like an overbearing mother. He ducked into the mess hall tent once again, regarding a knocked over table with some curiosity. He asked a soldier about it, and he muttered something about Lamia and tails. He did not recall seeing his lamia comrade that had fought with him in the Jurial Plains, or the newcomer Sarish. He assumed the worst and decided to leave it at that. He was given a slice of bread, which he quickly ate and left. There wasn't much to do around here, especially in the rain. He moved back toward the sparring grounds. In time, it had been his only source around the camp for entertainment. He sat in a shaded area to avoid the rain, and decided to watch men in the mud fight. Most of them utilized weapons, the rest fought hand-to-hand. Those men reminded him of his own arms, which continued to send angry messages to his brain because of what he did to them earlier. He caught sight of what looked like a weasel and what he recognized as the Fog-Mage's animal companion as he made his way over to the grounds. He had seen Talae running the perimeter in the rain. He had seen the human beserker look rather... calm.

None of this was relevant to what was at hand, nor was it any of his business, but with so little to do, the small thing slowly floated up to the surface of his head. He shook himself from his reverie, and saw Beelzes and Faera practicing magic, his sharp tunnel-raised eyes catching them as somebody exited by flipping open the tent flap. He sighed. Everybody seemed to have something to occupy him for the day besides himself. Usually in the tunnels he would be with his father, hammering away new corridors or exploring natural dungeons. He had finished his physical exercise in the wee hours of the morning, something he was accustomed to, and now he was left with nothing to do. "This sucks." He muttered to himself aloud, feeling useless and counter productive. He fidgeted restlessly on the bench he sat on before making a long walk down to the armor to off himself as manual labor. Something to keep himself occupied.