Mavis

I stood as the golden light of the bracelet coiled upward and installed itself upon my hand, forearm, and shoulder, not unlike a full sleeve tattoo of gold.

A warmth-no, a summons - pulsed from its position. I jerked upright, body rigid as I scanned the fog-veiled ravine below. Whether Mavis or just honed skill, the feeling meant threadbreakers. More than one.

"You're doing it again," my travelling companion said. He crouched beside me, his eyes closed in meditation, his breathing even and unhurried.

"Doing what?" I asked, voice tighter than my intent.

"Acting like the first thing that moves in an enemy," he said.

His eyes opened slowly. They gleamed with an essence I never noticed before. "I get it. You're wired for fast and loud. Strike first, ask questions later. This is not that. It requires precision and introspection."