The Nightingale
She/her
Twenty four
November 11
Slateport
Heterosexual
Assistant
executive
Defiance in her flesh, her blood, her bones; written on her soul
Puff the grumpy dragon [ff/m]
POSTED ON Jan 24, 2019 9:29:40 GMT
[attr="class","isratalk"] Isra has yet to release a pokemon, content to wait and see and she watches his out of the corner of her eye. The one Glaceon is quite obviously having trouble keeping up. Regardless, her own sit in their balls, waiting to be called upon. "So you think dealing with a wayward Drampa requires critical thinking?" she raises an eyebrow. She hardly sees how a single drampa -over sized or not as the sightings have stated- calls for the effort he seems to think it does. She has to remind herself that most do not have the relationship with dragon types that she does. While she can understand the average citizen calling for the league she can't see why a lesser member of the ranks isn't enough. Unless he hopes to prove himself? "It is fitting though, easier to keep people under control when they think they are safe even if they aren't." Isra keeps a steady pace, both in their conversation and in her steps. Generally unphased by his manner of speaking as she finds it no different from her own. "They're only as safe as they can protect themselves in a large scale attack. A small handful can be enough to squash it if used right but that doesn't mean they can save everyone." Isra fully understood that in some battles casualties were required, though naturally one should do what they could to minimize them. You can't move forward if you run out of troops in the barracks. "Controlling the masses is a different beast from a skirmish, different resources different outcomes." Isra skipped ahead of him a bit, humming to herself as she let her heals clack against the ground, doing so in a pattern to create what might be considered a form of music. Oddly enough, she was in a rather pleasant mood. FERNANDO SILPH[newclass=.isratalk b]color: #9ed480;[/newclass]
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