Deimos
The residual chill curled around the corners of his clothing and he lifted his jaw to the wind – eternally bound to the frigid air as he was to mountains and warfare. In another time, in another place, he had been much the same; driven to endlessly guard the noble summits and the tundra plain.
But where he differed were the people, and arching his brow at Alys’ collection and assortment of things, his strides and boots fell against the long grass with primordial ease; at home with the wilderness, with the frost, with the bite and Siberian ministrations. Belial floated above, no hooting ranging on greetings, considering how he was circling over a nest of rabbits, and Zuriel meandered behind, more intent on grazing than anything else.
So his eyes scanned the horizon, lingering upon the feral bits of earth, a smug grin beginning to conjure over his features. “Want to race?”
But where he differed were the people, and arching his brow at Alys’ collection and assortment of things, his strides and boots fell against the long grass with primordial ease; at home with the wilderness, with the frost, with the bite and Siberian ministrations. Belial floated above, no hooting ranging on greetings, considering how he was circling over a nest of rabbits, and Zuriel meandered behind, more intent on grazing than anything else.
So his eyes scanned the horizon, lingering upon the feral bits of earth, a smug grin beginning to conjure over his features. “Want to race?”
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
