Arthur stepped back for a better view of the nostalgic transformation. It had only been a short while since he'd joined the esteemed School of the Supernatural, Barthlorn… but it felt like ages since he'd seen the fabled 'attires' that the hunters donned during combat.
Of course, only rarely did he ever really need his attire here at the Phoenix Castle… but for some reason, he'd grown fond of the bronze ring and had never taken it off.
The lifelike nature of its material made it fit comfortably… and at the same time, it felt almost like a literal part of him.
Arthur never actually felt like taking it off. It was almost like the ring was never there, to start with.
Just like those that had their attires turning into thin accomodating forms like tattoos were no different from those that had them as objects on their bodies.
Graceful amber lines of a majestic tattoo in the shape of an eagle shone through the back of David's shirt.
