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still full of the knife - Deimos - 08-11-2023
It was still bizarre, to see the world of the Grounds broken into parts.
Not to say they’d ever been truly whole in multiple senses, but he’d known these portions to be wide open fields and long rolling hills, tumbling away into portions of woods. He’d hunted and lingered there, bow or daggers in hand, waiting for an opportunity, to see some semblance and essence of prey. Now, they were seemingly scattered, and across the view of the skyport, he could see the spread, each once a token bit and piece of the Hollowed sections.
Shaking his head and striving not to give way to nostalgia for the second time in a season, he simply glanced over his flora and fauna notations, paying mind as Belial soared above with a raucous hoot, and then scattered back down to poke at some long leaves. He could hear the grumbling of gourds nearby, probably scouring through bushes and waiting for an opportunity to strike, but instead of heeding their outcries (though the potential of more pumpkin for desserts stayed in the back of his mind), his long strides carried them towards the outskirts of the port, and high, overhanging trees.