I carried my own ashes to the mountains
With no further information pending from George about ghost whales, Deimos resigned himself to a shake of his head and residual silence. Only once he’d launched to the pitch of the roof did another inquiry seem to manage to unfurl from George. Eagle talons snagged at threads first, before the Sword shifted once more, carefully balancing along the pitch of ice, snow, and silk. “Around seven,” he mentioned; perhaps typical for most Attuned measures when they’d been amidst Caido for long periods of time.
Eyes flickering back to the man for a moment, his cranium tilted briefly. “Do you have shifts?” Uncertain as to what measure or status the Torcher was, the presumption was only there due to the other question. Thereafter, he tossed down another length of threads, squashing a few arachnids under his feet.
Eyes flickering back to the man for a moment, his cranium tilted briefly. “Do you have shifts?” Uncertain as to what measure or status the Torcher was, the presumption was only there due to the other question. Thereafter, he tossed down another length of threads, squashing a few arachnids under his feet.
DEIMOS
