Deimos
Had it been Helovia, perhaps Liam would’ve had cause for concern; the Reaper and many of his constituents would’ve employed and used any opportunity to snag and revolve demolition and destruction upon an unsuspecting land. But this was Caido, and Deimos was no longer the same – he had enough to keep him occupied, and no purpose to driving onslaughts into the Greatwood. To hear of its listlessness was more of a concern and apprehension than anything else, and he felt himself stifling another sigh behind his teeth, eyes flickering downward at the hole in the ground again, as if its emptiness signified something. “That is unfortunate.” He half-wondered if Noah would be sent there next, forced to tend and lend to the trees.
Speculation ran rampant again, and he knew it wasn’t his job to save every individual in these lands, but machinations never truly died in his mind, and so his gaze landed back on Liam, the soldier with a vacant and empty land. It made it difficult and easy to guard all at once, he supposed, somewhere in his skull. Rather than mince words, for he’d never been delicate about those proceedings, his diction cut straight to the point. “Is Phoebe no longer around?”
Speculation ran rampant again, and he knew it wasn’t his job to save every individual in these lands, but machinations never truly died in his mind, and so his gaze landed back on Liam, the soldier with a vacant and empty land. It made it difficult and easy to guard all at once, he supposed, somewhere in his skull. Rather than mince words, for he’d never been delicate about those proceedings, his diction cut straight to the point. “Is Phoebe no longer around?”
we exhume our enemy's bones
we are battling, hungry beasts
we are battling, hungry beasts
