Coyote silently ate his breakfast, taking his time to enjoy the flavor of the meal his leader had prepared. When the others began to trickle in, he paid them only a moment of heed. They would be used to that, of course, for everyone knew that Coyote was not one for being a conversationalist. He never had been during his time as a member of Night Raid and it was unlikely he would ever be. He never spoke, instead preferring to watch and analyze the others. Tiergan always seemed to have an anger inside him, one Coyote was very familiar with. It was the anger of somebody who had lost something very precious to him. Josephine was always a happy person, her smile sometimes seeming contagious in the ex-soldier's eyes. She was innocent in some ways, but quite mature in others. Minasa, despite her handicaps, was a strong woman. She too had lost someone quite precious to her, but she never seemed to have moved on from that entirely. Then again, nobody here had moved past the tragedy in their pasts. Even Hayato hadn't fully moved past the deaths of his previous comrades. Still, there was something about Minasa that he couldn't help but find beautiful. It was that one thing that had enabled the woman to slowly, and no doubt unknowingly, work her way into Coyote's heart. Not that he would say anything about such a matter anytime soon. Not until he was able to forgive himself for getting Elaine killed.
After he finished eating, Coyote rose from his seat with a calm expression on his face. If he wasn't to be heading out on a mission anytime soon, then there was plenty of time to keep his skills as sharply honed as the edge of his Draglancer. In his line of work, being unprepared for a difficult battle was not an option. The slightest drop in skill could mean the difference between life and death, and that was a fact that had never once changed for Coyote. This was a world where only the strong could stay alive, a world that he wanted so desperately to change. Strength and weakness? Those were things that existed in all people. Who had the right to decide which category a person fell into, who could ever say someone didn't have the right to live simply because they weren't strong enough? Walking outside, Coyote removed his armor and shirt, taking Draglancer into his hands. With a calm expression and a focused in his eyes, the ex-soldier began his katas. Each movement flowed together like a dance, each swing seeming more fluid than the swing of an axe would be in the hands of an inexperienced warrior. This was the skill he had come to possess through the years, his Draglancer now an extension of his own body.
After he finished eating, Coyote rose from his seat with a calm expression on his face. If he wasn't to be heading out on a mission anytime soon, then there was plenty of time to keep his skills as sharply honed as the edge of his Draglancer. In his line of work, being unprepared for a difficult battle was not an option. The slightest drop in skill could mean the difference between life and death, and that was a fact that had never once changed for Coyote. This was a world where only the strong could stay alive, a world that he wanted so desperately to change. Strength and weakness? Those were things that existed in all people. Who had the right to decide which category a person fell into, who could ever say someone didn't have the right to live simply because they weren't strong enough? Walking outside, Coyote removed his armor and shirt, taking Draglancer into his hands. With a calm expression and a focused in his eyes, the ex-soldier began his katas. Each movement flowed together like a dance, each swing seeming more fluid than the swing of an axe would be in the hands of an inexperienced warrior. This was the skill he had come to possess through the years, his Draglancer now an extension of his own body.
