Title: The Perfect Moment
(Yme stares down at the stick, trying to impart her will to it and call it to her purposes.)
Yme: This piece of wood is so sluggish, it anticipates none of the tangents that my training imparted to my frenting rod.
I ignore this and press on. With Botaram the ultimate goal, what is the present subgoal?
I allow for the Positive (Hostile Oistrem Present), Negative (Absence of Resources), Day Sand factored...
The surge approaches, thickly and uncertainly, but it is there.
I focus my intent all the harder, what the stick lacks I must provide.
I feel now for the perfect moment, All else fades from my senses, the Cast is to be my destiny.
My destiny, and that of the World.
(The scene shifts to show the Oistrem on the other side of the ridge.)
Oistrem: Silence, only silence. The Strasmin waits upon events unknown.
If I am to strike at all, now should be the time.
