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 vast 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.
