#and hal

He then replays it all once more as he fastens his sabatons and greaves, letting himself enjoy the luxury of time to get ready as opposed to frantically yanking on his too-big armor as shouts rang out from camp.

Mapping out his day was crucial recently. His lists were longer than they had been in years and he could not afford for even one item to go unattended to. Everything was so important.

He wonders, some days, if this was even a fraction of the pressure Thjazi feels.

...Felt.

He takes a slow breath as the thought hits him, letting the small ripple of grief wash through his being. Ever present as a phantom, the man's voice rings out clear in his head- Time for that later. Keep moving, soldier.

There was no time for him to wallow. There was so much to be done, he could not afford to succumb to the skeletal hand that threatens to rip out his heart. Its grip tightens, yes, but his small moments with Hal and Murray and Thimble kept it from encasing him completely.

You need to pay your weapon attention lest it rust over completely. Your heart and your mind are vital to your functioning. You must attend to them so that they do not become crumbling dust in your hands. So you do not become useless.

Azune has to be useful. He has to.

He rises to his feet as he steps out of his tiny apartment in Shafira, closing and locking his door behind him as always as he catches the beginnings of a sunrise starting to color the sky.

"...The bakery today. Treats are good for morale."