DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Keeping the information tucked away in the back of his mind, the Sword nodded, pondering if further with a narrowed gaze pinpointed on walls and another set of shadows as they rounded a corner. “Interesting, nonetheless. Glad to hear it is manageable.” From Fox’s standpoint, at the very least. He hadn’t asked any others; like Edmund (who seemed twitchy), Dantalion (who just seemed…odd), or Kiada (who had enough on her plate).
As for why another had turned to the Voice, his gaze fell to the floor instead, features rendered and returned to their usual stoicism. The Grounds had their own maelstroms and conundrums, without the support of anything other than themselves and one another – and based on how things had gone…he couldn’t say he was surprised by the outcomes. Ascension meant alleviating worries – a kind of statis and immortality most never would have been able to maintain or find elsewhere. “Understandable,” he said eventually, realizing he'd gone quiet again. “Hopefully this time around will be kinder for you.” And so many others – because at least it was another chance, another opportunity.
As for why another had turned to the Voice, his gaze fell to the floor instead, features rendered and returned to their usual stoicism. The Grounds had their own maelstroms and conundrums, without the support of anything other than themselves and one another – and based on how things had gone…he couldn’t say he was surprised by the outcomes. Ascension meant alleviating worries – a kind of statis and immortality most never would have been able to maintain or find elsewhere. “Understandable,” he said eventually, realizing he'd gone quiet again. “Hopefully this time around will be kinder for you.” And so many others – because at least it was another chance, another opportunity.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
