DEIMOS
Mourn, with its stone, its flowers, its sanctity, did seem better fitting of the Evergreen, but he only gave her the hint of a smile, a hunter’s mind already setting pace with the potential of the land. He’d done so through here at some point in their explorations, snagging at deer before returning to their small encampment, before the world had ever heard of refuges or pretending to forgo the picking of sides.
As she spun, he took hold of her hand, placing it in the crook of his elbow, so neither seemed as if they were dragged through the long stalks of grass. A boyish grin curled along the dimpling of his cheeks, and she probably wouldn’t be surprised to hear the next statement either. “Flew off the Last Step once,” with eagle wings outstretched and waiting for something to happen. He’d also been a partaker in diving off the Spire when their group of friends were all newly Attuned and ridiculous; so it wasn’t anything new.
The bamboo was though, as he’d never been this far out, and he released her so that she might forge the path onward. He followed close behind, one calloused palm reaching towards the thinner spirals of wood, rumbling something amidst his quick, quiet inspection. “Maybe,” he responded, brow arching, returning to the woven trail. “What do they look like?”
As she spun, he took hold of her hand, placing it in the crook of his elbow, so neither seemed as if they were dragged through the long stalks of grass. A boyish grin curled along the dimpling of his cheeks, and she probably wouldn’t be surprised to hear the next statement either. “Flew off the Last Step once,” with eagle wings outstretched and waiting for something to happen. He’d also been a partaker in diving off the Spire when their group of friends were all newly Attuned and ridiculous; so it wasn’t anything new.
The bamboo was though, as he’d never been this far out, and he released her so that she might forge the path onward. He followed close behind, one calloused palm reaching towards the thinner spirals of wood, rumbling something amidst his quick, quiet inspection. “Maybe,” he responded, brow arching, returning to the woven trail. “What do they look like?”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
