[His gaze is as steely as his blade - it flickers from the furrow to Silco, and back again.]
[Something feels off. Silco is planning something - when isn't he planning something? It's too easy. Silco wants something. Silco wants him to move. Silco wants-]
[There's a sudden shift, and he's stepping forward to crash his sword down through the shell, but not before he's flicking his arm back as to let the mantle of blood spray onto his face, trying to momentarily blind him. Anything to discourage him.]
no subject
[Something feels off. Silco is planning something - when isn't he planning something? It's too easy. Silco wants something. Silco wants him to move. Silco wants-]
[There's a sudden shift, and he's stepping forward to crash his sword down through the shell, but not before he's flicking his arm back as to let the mantle of blood spray onto his face, trying to momentarily blind him. Anything to discourage him.]
[Silco, his thorn in his side.]