[By the time they come to the end of Kratos's many patterns, Kratos does feel as though he's reached some degree of equilibrium. He's still not where he should be, not even close; but it's a start, and right now, even a start is something he'll take.

[And he has Flamberge. Even with the trouble he's been having, Flamberge hasn't felt awkward in his hands, in the air; all Kratos can do now is strive to once more be worthy of it. He ends in a resting stance and sheathes Flamberge, fingers tracing the familiar lines of its hilt, and exhales once more, and looks up at the sky and the expansive shading hues of the gorge's depths.]

I still have some way to go. But I think -- I can get there. If you help me.

[It's not quite a question, but it's still tentative, and Kratos can't quite bring himself to look over.]