Deimos
Rolling his eyes at the brandished stick, he skewered another one on her’s, half-tempted to take that too. Instead though, he listened, tilting his head as his eyes returned to studying sugary confections turning the desired shades. Shrugging his shoulders, and given over to a sudden bombardment of amusement, his smile turned catlike and Cheshire again. “And a third in the barracks.” The image gave him a bout of laughter, so that it roared and rumbled amongst the fire and the stars ahead. The more practical notion, which he had for both of them, would be fit to finagle an infant along their backs or chests, wrapped around and strapped down; avoiding evasion and permitting them to get tasks accomplished.
But that was for the future.
Unbothered if he ruined a moment, he persisted in turning his own over, delighted in the perfection once more, and began to construct the s’mores, placing the graham crackers and chocolate in his lap. “Not always,” he offered, as if it might be some rarity, applying the marshmallow into the built concoction. “I saw Kiada again. Made her a coat so that she might be able to visit.”
But that was for the future.
Unbothered if he ruined a moment, he persisted in turning his own over, delighted in the perfection once more, and began to construct the s’mores, placing the graham crackers and chocolate in his lap. “Not always,” he offered, as if it might be some rarity, applying the marshmallow into the built concoction. “I saw Kiada again. Made her a coat so that she might be able to visit.”
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
