DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The time and effort had been worth it, after considering the finality of his work. His head tilted once or twice, studying the formation, before leaving it to Sah’s inspection and perusal for later. The muffins were tempting, and he snagged one without much of a thought, arching a brow at Aino, then the other Abandoned, missing the notions and connections between mothers and neighbors. Otherwise, a juvenile grin flickered over his features at the other warrior’s inquiry. “Practice.” Brushing his hands off upon finishing the food, he only offered a shrug at her second statement. “I would hate to be predictable.”
When other tasks and orders were given, the Sword offered no hesitation in his decision. “I will take the weapons cabinet.” Due to armaments being a personal favorite; and he could carve, nuance, something else to Sah’s taste.
So with no further discourse, he advanced to the area, and began to assemble the same ruminations of wood and paneling to accompany the desk – more wolves roaming down the side, with portions hollowed out to hold the necessary weapons. Some had hooks, some had racks, some had proportions down below for ammunition, presuming they’d all be useful.
When other tasks and orders were given, the Sword offered no hesitation in his decision. “I will take the weapons cabinet.” Due to armaments being a personal favorite; and he could carve, nuance, something else to Sah’s taste.
So with no further discourse, he advanced to the area, and began to assemble the same ruminations of wood and paneling to accompany the desk – more wolves roaming down the side, with portions hollowed out to hold the necessary weapons. Some had hooks, some had racks, some had proportions down below for ammunition, presuming they’d all be useful.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
