"If not a flash, a boom? A crack through the sky? What paved the path that we now stride?"
Every. Time. Every time we get together for a mission, it's a metaphysical debate. Weren't we just swapping stories, sharing knife-sharpening techniques? How'd we get back to campfire philosophy?
Well, I'm here now…
"Arc energy isn't so dramatic," I countered, getting on my feet. "You both feel it, too, right? The prickling hum that runs under everything."
"Feels more like a buzz to me." The stout Awoken finished picking his teeth long enough to weigh in. "Like a million bees coming in from miles away."
I circled the fire, becoming more grateful for the distraction, with nothing else around us for miles. Every time we get together for a mission, I can't seem to sit still.
"But to feel the sparks dance on my fingers," the first Hunter replied, "I could swear they were the product of some great juncture."
One hundred miles away, thunderstorms flashed as if in reply.
I get it, why we can't go a single mission without talking philosophy. Same reason I can't stay sitting. Every time we get together for a mission, we pass it around like a current running between us: anticipation.