DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The Sword attempted to picture trading goods with other tribes – those scattered out against the mountains and sea, that felt no need to indulge themselves amongst other citizens of Halo. A way of life they’d chosen, just like the rest of them – and he had to wonder if it kept them mostly out of incoming trials and tribulations. So he nodded along, muffling a small snort, eyes on the ground, and then on the glass, staring out along the expanse through the veneer.
The next question had been recently asked by Evie, so the answer was already on the tip of his tongue, a vague smile curling along one corner of his mouth. “I have several. The Sea of Glass,” for it reminded him of the Basin, with its lake that never froze, no matter the season. “Frey’s Breath,” for all its curatives and now, new, fonder memories. “And the Whispershore. You?”
The next question had been recently asked by Evie, so the answer was already on the tip of his tongue, a vague smile curling along one corner of his mouth. “I have several. The Sea of Glass,” for it reminded him of the Basin, with its lake that never froze, no matter the season. “Frey’s Breath,” for all its curatives and now, new, fonder memories. “And the Whispershore. You?”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
