Angrily, he tapped the chalkboard again. “‘With a crimson desire for violence,’ all right, is this a poem? Are you writing a poem? Crimson desire?” The Remnant picked up chalk and circled the word ‘desire’ three times. “I’d give my left arm to know why you’re giving me the theoretical…” She only spent a second hunting for the right word before the spirit scribbled the word ‘underpinnings.’ “…underpinnings of a cycling technique.”
