Campaign
Zechariah sighs, knowing that there must be more to the story than he was told. But this was no time for a full-fledged retelling of a drama. Their lives were still at risk here. Despite River's harsh nature, he had a point: They had to be able to keep up, or they would all be killed.
In the back of his mind, he recalled the same theme being brought up by Artemis, Apollo, Scion, Raphael, Danielle... really, it was essentially to their survival through so many trials and disasters. They always had to keep moving, keep running, keep fighting, even though he was tired and frustrated with himself. He wanted to quit sometimes, but he kept going. Something kept driving him.
He still needed that drive now.
Suddenly, he snaps out of his train of thought as Nikolai leaves his nailboard to go to the next place over. Zechariah only manages to blink and pick up the nailboard awkwardly while watching Nikolai stride off.
"Well, what am I supposed to do with this thing?" Zechariah muttered to himself. He tried holding it up like a club. No, that didn't work; it was too awkward in his grip. Maybe he could hold it like a sort of hammer? Still too wide for that sort of thing, and Zechariah didn't have particularly large hands.
Such a crude weapon, Zechariah thought to himself. Why would I even have use for something like this? I fight with my creations, not with a board full of nails.
Wait around and guard the area. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to intimidate someone with this piece of wood.
...who am I kidding? I couldn't intimidate a fly.