[The crimson hilt is easy to grasp, without needing to ignite the blade. They lock onto it fiercely, gripping it like it may very well be their own lifeline. It would be discourteous to call it a death grip, but it is just as fervent - just as intent.]
[But then, everything they do is tinged with death by nature. Perhaps it is a death grip in its own right.]
[It is not their sprite, but it is just as vital to their continued existence, and they cling to it nonetheless.]
[The act is more disorienting than it has any right to be, but the Drifter still manages to tip their head down in a wobbling nod of thanks.]
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[But then, everything they do is tinged with death by nature. Perhaps it is a death grip in its own right.]
[It is not their sprite, but it is just as vital to their continued existence, and they cling to it nonetheless.]
[The act is more disorienting than it has any right to be, but the Drifter still manages to tip their head down in a wobbling nod of thanks.]