Ty exhaled a sigh of relief as the Kama blade returned to his skeletal grasp, holding the hilts together. "You really have a mind of your own, don't you?" he mused aloud, half to himself and half to the blade.
Curious, Ty tapped one of the blades with his bony finger, a thoughtful expression on his skull. "Can you talk, by any chance?
Do you have a mouth somewhere on here?" he asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question, spoken into the wide space of the dojo.
Meanwhile, Mattison landed with a thud from the ceiling, dropping to one knee, visibly exhausted. His Crow armor dissipated, revealing his fatigue. He commanded LT Jeryln to fetch him a bottle of water, trying to regain his composure.
He made his way to the clipboard, jotting down his observations with a sense of urgency.
"If he ever goes rogue, we'll need at least two capable fighters to stand a chance against him," he muttered under his breath, a note of both respect and caution in his tone for Ty's abilities.
