"You want to know about modern warfare?" Celi pondered, looking at a determined Vagnis that stood before her. They were in the fields as always, working on the next big thing. The Ironmill shooting fumes into the sky as it devoured iron in its raging flames.
"That's right," He nodded firmly, his gaze somewhat downcast as he spoke. "I'm interested, in the weapons of the people that humans use,"
"Ramen, The ironmill, the Pickaxe and more," He looked up, his face filled with a fierce determination, his brow furrowed over his gaze as he declared. "I want to know, I want to see it all for myself!"
There was a soft silence between them, the neowolf staring at him almost mechanically as she processed his words.
"We're way too far behind to create such technology," Celi said bluntly, the words like a weight on Vagnis's shoulders. His hands turned soft fists to let out his disappointment.
"Understood…" He muttered, turning to leave.
