Smooth, slow motions.
Once, one of his colonels had commented on the oddity of Sephiroth, the General spearheading the war against the orient, doing something like Tai Chi every morning. Sure, he didn't believe in Da Chao and reserved his beliefs for science rather than Odin and his host of sons and daughters, but he believed in the calming nature
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You're standing where I buried my chewtoy.
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He had no idea how to handle the situation. He killed humans, he killed monsters and those who opposed Mother, he didn't kill tiny dogs looking for toys.
Blinking and letting his hands drop, Sephiroth straightened and stayed put. "Your...chewtoy?"
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"Why did you bury it?"
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He's a dog, logic isn't always the greatest.
Wishbone went right to work, digging enthusiastically, until he saw a splash of red in the dirt.
Aha! he dug some more until he pulled it out. Ta-da!
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After a beat, he crouched down and rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and tilted his head at the dog. "You dig holes purely because it's fun? Not because you have a purpose, or a reason to?"
It did not compute. Everything Sephiroth did, every movement, every expression, had a reason, a purpose.
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"I had fun hunting down my rivals friends. I had fun systematically breaking apart their lives." He looked at Wishbone, expectant, as if to be told whether this was what Wishbone meant or not.
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