[It'll be refreshing to hear of a master whose sword is excited to tell, hear, share his story. Not like him, with people chattering about his former masters, about the damage he'd sustained, about what admirable men they once were, men that he hated so.
No, better to focus on the bright sword of the more recent past, to hear the stories of what's become of the world in the time since he'd been put away for good.
Mutsu settles down a bit, though, and Souza falls all too easily back into fussing over him, fluffing more soot from his hair, and then off his shoulders and sleeves, still concerned for him, still marveling at how he can be so unbothered by the flame.]
Right, right...
[More fussing. Mutsu asks about him, though, and he pauses for several long seconds.]
I... suppose I am, yes... And... I have...
[Not as much as many others, but also more than he thought he should have been.]
no subject
No, better to focus on the bright sword of the more recent past, to hear the stories of what's become of the world in the time since he'd been put away for good.
Mutsu settles down a bit, though, and Souza falls all too easily back into fussing over him, fluffing more soot from his hair, and then off his shoulders and sleeves, still concerned for him, still marveling at how he can be so unbothered by the flame.]
Right, right...
[More fussing. Mutsu asks about him, though, and he pauses for several long seconds.]
I... suppose I am, yes... And... I have...
[Not as much as many others, but also more than he thought he should have been.]