Impulse didn’t make good plans. Forethought, calculations, machinations, mapping out the possibilities, the pros and the cons, the probabilities of after effects were far better notions, in his opinion and experience, than merely rushing onward. And with all of that, here Darkeye was, with nothing more to show for all those impetuous, thoughtless motions. Deimos couldn’t help but grimace slightly, breaking up the portions of lettuce into smaller amounts, before placing them in the bowl. [say]“You may not like what I have to say,”[/say] a pointed warning, with his brows raised, for he knew the priest to be an individual who wanted to do something. Committed to actions. Even if they didn’t directly coincide with anyone else’s – which in some cases, would’ve been admirable.
[say]“But perhaps now is the time to lay low. Do what you wanted to do before the war.”[/say] If he was still firm on making his own version of a safe haven. If he was still hellbent on neutrality. [say]“Maybe after everything is done…,”[/say] then there would be more peace, resolve, and repose to be had.
[say]“But perhaps now is the time to lay low. Do what you wanted to do before the war.”[/say] If he was still firm on making his own version of a safe haven. If he was still hellbent on neutrality. [say]“Maybe after everything is done…,”[/say] then there would be more peace, resolve, and repose to be had.
