Is that what he'd felt? In the quiet of the night on the mountain, there had been something. A distant stirring, just enough to catch at his senses without leaving him anything more concrete than a lingering disquiet.

"Perhaps it was trying to warn you about me. Your dream."

He wrenches the sword free after a short struggle, just a little more violently than strictly necessary. It clatters onto the pile. Kylo doesn't say so, but something about the new set of his jaw suggests he's far more accustomed to being seen as a threat than protection from them. He's hardly surprised to be represented like this— a blind explosion of blades spearing through everything in reach— if anything, it feels very familiar.

Inevitable, even.

"I'm definitely more sword than shield."