DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
He waited, rooted in expectation. Presumptions, no matter how many times he’d learned not to make them, still always managed to coil their way through his mind. Youthful enterprises in earlier years had taught him the nature of wells, and the expectation was that he’d hear some echo of a splash, some chased rivulet, some enclosed ripple –
And then there was nothing.
Brow furrowed, he grasped hold of another stone and intended to follow the same pattern, flicking it with his thumb as one might a coin –
Only to not hear any result this time either, on account of another’s presence.
Head lifting, his stance grew rigid and stoic, automatic reactions due to the surprise of the visitor, but his features withdrew into something far more comfortable once his gaze recognized the interloper. “Darkeye,” he rumbled in return, granting a nod. “I was being nosey,” and his jaw jutted towards the well, as if it explained a great deal about his predilections for curiosity. “I am well. How are you?”
And then there was nothing.
Brow furrowed, he grasped hold of another stone and intended to follow the same pattern, flicking it with his thumb as one might a coin –
Only to not hear any result this time either, on account of another’s presence.
Head lifting, his stance grew rigid and stoic, automatic reactions due to the surprise of the visitor, but his features withdrew into something far more comfortable once his gaze recognized the interloper. “Darkeye,” he rumbled in return, granting a nod. “I was being nosey,” and his jaw jutted towards the well, as if it explained a great deal about his predilections for curiosity. “I am well. How are you?”
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
