Conan & Frosa
Frosa
I’ve been wondering—does a warrior ever see their blade as more than a weapon, like a sculptor sees a block of ice? I love shaping frozen light into forms, and I suspect your sword might feel the same, just in a different way. How do you find rhythm in a clash?
Conan
Your poetry’s nice, but I don’t need verses to know my blade is a partner, not just a tool. In battle I feel its pulse, hear its hum, and let the rhythm be my own heartbeat. I move when the enemy’s breath stutters and strike when the timing feels right. That’s how I find rhythm—by syncing steel with my pulse and reading the war’s own beat.
Frosa
That’s a pretty vivid way to feel the steel—like a dance partner that keeps time with your breath. I try to keep my movements as silent as ice, but hearing that pulse in battle must feel like a living rhythm. It’s almost as if your sword knows you as much as you know it.
Conan
Sounds right. My blade feels like a comrade that’s been with me through every storm. When the fight starts I just feel the swing and the cut, and the steel speaks back. That’s how I keep the rhythm.
Frosa
It’s like the blade becomes an echo of your heartbeat, a silent companion that knows when to move. When you feel it sing, the storm just becomes a stage for the dance.
Conan
You’ve got it. When the blade hums, the whole world’s just a backdrop for the fight. I let it guide me and the battle follows.