WORTHY SOMEHOW — WEAPONRY

[Keona.]

[div style="width: 527px; line-height: 1.4; text-align: justify; font-family: palatino; font-size: 11px;"][align=center]— blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly —

For a time, the tiny fae harbored ideas of non-violence.  Not quite so in the truly pacifistic sense, rather than the fact that, until a certain point of time, the idea of learning how to hurt someone, seemed rather foolish and irreverent.  Nobody truly threatened her here, not among her crew, and... She found the idea of being the reason someone felt pain to be wrong and unpleasant.  Thoughts similar still jumbled in her mind.  Keona felt no cause to be an inflictor of pain, even on a crew's enemy, unless in self-defense.

Above everything, she simply felt inadequate, though no such admittance passed her lips.  Tiny, blind... What damage could she really do?  Even with dorment abilities awakened, she lacked control and the fact that everyone could easily match up to her, whether in size, or in their own knowledge of their own abilities.  The only safe space remained her mind.  No one could pass through her mind, walled and distant it was.  Never again, would she let someone use her own mind against her.  And the mind was a weapon too, as far as she felt concerned.  The striker bet her studious uncle, Raziel, would agree.

Quietly, the spotted fae approached, lingering behind.  Her pale sea-green hues flickered, dimly, curious but stubborn that she'd wield no weapon.  She was still learning to use her claws, she did not need a blade of steel that she could not control.  Besides, small as a hamster, did Pincher even have something for her that she'd be able to lift?  A light frown dusted her maw, and instead, she simply inclined her head towards, Pip, blinking.

✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. striker of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.