When sword risen it always falls in blood
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OOC Wc: 588


Itzal cracked his neck, the sound it made sound eerie in the abandoned valley. Itzal didn't expect to find much out here, but he still wanted to explore. While he hadn't left Anathema since leaving his den, he hadn't done nothing. He had been exploring the pack lands. He was surprised by everything there was to find. He kicked a rock and it skipped across the ground. Or not to find. He shook his head and kept walking. He noticed some trees to the south and had started heading that way. He loved being around trees, it just felt right to him. Plus he was use to sneaking and using cover to hide, and trees were perfect for that. He picked up the pace, getting impatient and wanting to do something. His hand fell to the katana at his side as he smirked with eagerness.

He stopped when he reached the trees, sniffing the air and drawing the sword. He kept his grip on the handle firm, his arm loose and relaxed and his wrist the same. He swung the sword through the air, but he put to much weight behind it and stumbled forward, growling. He wasn't use to wielding this weapon. It was so unlike his dagger and throwing knives. He shook his head and tried again, putting less force into the swing. He didn't stumble this time but the swing was too weak. He kept trying. He kept his weight balanced, like he did when he was sneaking and fighting hand to hand, what little he knew. He did a diagonal slice with the sword, and this time he didn't feel like it was too bad and he smiled. He kept working at it, trying to fix what he felt was wrong and what wasn't. The only problem with that was, he didn't know what was wrong and what wasn't. So he could be making himself worse or getting bad habits. And bad habits were hard to replace withe good ones.

He sighed and looked around after another couple of swings. It was creepy how there wasn't anyone out here. But Itzal kept feeling like there was. He wasn't sure if he was just imagining things or not. He shrugged and went back to his work, but kept a little bit of every sense on his surroundings, paranoid now that he had that weird feeling that he wasn't entirely alone. Itzal lowered the sword, glancing through all of the trees and shadows. His free hand reached down and pulled a throwing knife out of the red pouch by his side. He might not know how to use the katana, but his knives were another story. He could kill with one throw if he had too. And he wouldn't hesitate to do that either.

Whats wrong Itzal? Scared of your own shadow? Worried some big bad monster is out to get you? You are the only monster around here. And me of course, but you won't even let me out to play you are so afraid of me. You are just a pathetic little coward aren't you? Poor little boy, you have no idea what you really are, so afraid of what you could truly do. I wish I could show you. Itzal snarled, Eztli loved his mind games, he loved messing with Itzal's head, feeding him lies. But Itzal wasn't entirely sure they were lies. Maybe a part of him knew Eztli was right. Or maybe a part of him wanted Eztli to be right.

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