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"Nah, I think it's a 'help I'm surrounded, please save me' kind of measure. Like an SOS call." He'd never used it, nor had he heard anyone use it. Horace had, however, been told to use it if he encountered weird s**t on his mapping missions and couldn't portal out. In retrospect, maybe he should have tried that in the forest. Well, too late now.

He finished off his soda. "Hunters usually pick a specialty when they are full hunters. Like Jordan, he's a sun hunter, he trains people in heavy weapons. Some don't have specialties. I just got picked for it cuz I was death and I was free, mostly. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it; I did. Was pretty good at it, for the most part. Why - you already thinking of doing something in particular?"

"Not every moon repairs stuff," he pointed out. "Some heal and some focus on protecting offensive fighters. Or even getting civilians out of harm's way. I hear a lot of time a moon and sun will pair up for like... life for fighting purposes. Most other divisions don't pair up like that - well, it wouldn't make sense for them to do so," he admitted. Horace thought that suns working with a particular moon was practical and also kind of vaguely romantic, even if there was no actual romance between the people. It was kind of sad other divisions had no reason to do that kind of pairing off.

It seemed, no matter how hard he or circumstances tried, the bit of him that was a hopeless, silly romantic lived on. Ugh. Horace made a face.

"So yeah, do what you're good at and stuff. I dunno. I've never even really talked to my division head - I think you gotta make an impression in order to specialize, so maybe that's right out for me." He shrugged awkwardly and re-tied his hair up in a loop.

"Practicing never ends. I wasn't very good in the beginning either - still not great," he said, relieved that Micah hadn't picked up on his discomfort. It was becoming glaringly obvious that the other man was prone to obliviousness. Not always a bad thing, he thought. That very obliviousness made Horace relax a bit. "We can always spar again..." he trailed off hopefully. Spars were the perfect relaxation in his mind.

He had to pause for a moment. "Working with your hands. I see." His voice deliberately held a leer and then, abruptly, he dropped it. "What kinds of stuff did you fix?"

He snorted. "You sound like you want me to beg for it, Micah." Horace did not have much pride, but he had some, and he'd never go that far. Spars were never as fun if the other party wasn't into it as well. "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't beg. Well, for that, at least." He shook his head and stretched out his legs across the bed with a satisfied noise, careful not to upset the laptop.

"Like construction on buildings and stuff? That's really awesome!" His praise was genuine. "I can't really do that to save my life. Dawson showed me some plumbing stuff, but..." Horace shrugged and wiggled his toes. That had been a thing where he certainly remembered the basics, but it was working on an existing system. And they've never found a real way to made everything work, though he could probably fix a toilet now if he needed to.

He looked assessingly at Micah. "I bet you're great at Jenga."

"Muscle memory? Huh, I don't think I'm built for that kinda memory. I'm better at words." He glanced briefly at the laptop. "If you like Jenga, you should do he life division training course."

"Well," Horace said. "-you play Jenga and if you ******** up, someone sleeping darts you."He rubbed the back of his neck in memory. It had been a disastrous session with Dylon, and eventually they had both fled, giving up.

"The one time I tried it, we did shots of hot sauce, too. Bad idea. But you should give it a go sometime. You gte something for completing it, I don't know what, though."

"Uhhhh.... critical thinking, I guess? The other division training is more straight forward, like fight a lot or build things." Horace had never really bothered to think about why Jenga was training. He supposed it could be argued that it taught moon kids structural support, but that was a shaky assumption. He smiled at his own pun.

"Boredom. I like some hot sauce, and my friend and I were being dumb. Since you're Canadian, would you do shots of maple syrup?"