Something Something Learn Fast or Die
Sericea, Xairo, Ludovic, Zagan, Abyssinica.
Yesterday, 12:01 PM
Xairo sat quietly, absorbing every word of Absinth's lesson like a sponge. The concept of self-preservation resonated deeply with him - in a world full of dangers both overt and hidden, one could never be too cautious or prepared. His mother's emphasis on identifying weaknesses, both in oneself and in others, struck a particular chord.
Xairo's mind whirred, already analyzing his own vulnerabilities and how they might be exploited. His ambition, his desire to prove himself and establish dominance - those traits could so easily become liabilities if he wasn't careful. An enemy could manipulate his pride, goad him into reckless action. The thought made Xairo's lips curl back, exposing gleaming fangs. He would have to be vigilant, always on guard against such tactics.
Xairo mulled over the different strategies Absinth had outlined. His first instinct was always to fight, to meet any challenge head-on and prove his strength and dominance. Fleeing felt cowardly, like an admission of weakness. The very idea made his hackles rise.
But as he turned his mother's words over in his mind, Xairo began to see the wisdom in them. In some situations, retreat could be the smartest move. Live to fight another day, as Absinth said. Conserve your strength and strike back when the odds were in your favor. It wasn't cowardice, it was tactical.
The concept of feinting intrigued Xairo most of all. Letting your enemy underestimate you, lulling them into a false sense of security until the moment was right to show your true power. There was a certain appeal to that kind of cunning deception. Something worth adding to his arsenal, for sure.
"Xairo Saxe"
Xairo's mind whirred, already analyzing his own vulnerabilities and how they might be exploited. His ambition, his desire to prove himself and establish dominance - those traits could so easily become liabilities if he wasn't careful. An enemy could manipulate his pride, goad him into reckless action. The thought made Xairo's lips curl back, exposing gleaming fangs. He would have to be vigilant, always on guard against such tactics.
Xairo mulled over the different strategies Absinth had outlined. His first instinct was always to fight, to meet any challenge head-on and prove his strength and dominance. Fleeing felt cowardly, like an admission of weakness. The very idea made his hackles rise.
But as he turned his mother's words over in his mind, Xairo began to see the wisdom in them. In some situations, retreat could be the smartest move. Live to fight another day, as Absinth said. Conserve your strength and strike back when the odds were in your favor. It wasn't cowardice, it was tactical.
The concept of feinting intrigued Xairo most of all. Letting your enemy underestimate you, lulling them into a false sense of security until the moment was right to show your true power. There was a certain appeal to that kind of cunning deception. Something worth adding to his arsenal, for sure.