Deimos
Liberation from the clustered and suffocating proportions of the meeting left him wandering immediately thereafter – not ready to return to multitudes, to balls, to more political reaching and portions he couldn’t escape. Knowing Evie and Erebos were safe was enough to send him outward, but more than a few times he took long, slow, lingering breaths, staring out over the expanse over a world he once knew into something arched and changed, and even then, the web of memories spilled over the surface.
Some scorchmarks still on the plains, some new intricacies built from a labored ground. He maneuvered without much purpose, long strides sweeping over places where they’d screamed for justice or tried to be heroic intervals, straining against the pull of LongNight. The puffs of warm air pulled from his lungs and he desperately wanted to be home, in Halo, with his family, rather than tracing over foundations of a life they’d left behind.
Still giving himself time, he leaned against a stone wall, reaching for its grounding purposes while the restless ends of his frame worked on not disappearing into the ether. Difficult to do for someone of his renown and size, but the shadows slipped around, comforting, and his hands concocted and created as if they had nothing better to do. Maybe it was a slip of his mind, a way to remember Safrin’s words to him, a meaning of lures and bait, as pieces that looked like gold filled his palms, and he unfurled them with Air magic, letting the snares ripple across the wake of the cobblestones, dirt, and snow.
Some scorchmarks still on the plains, some new intricacies built from a labored ground. He maneuvered without much purpose, long strides sweeping over places where they’d screamed for justice or tried to be heroic intervals, straining against the pull of LongNight. The puffs of warm air pulled from his lungs and he desperately wanted to be home, in Halo, with his family, rather than tracing over foundations of a life they’d left behind.
Still giving himself time, he leaned against a stone wall, reaching for its grounding purposes while the restless ends of his frame worked on not disappearing into the ether. Difficult to do for someone of his renown and size, but the shadows slipped around, comforting, and his hands concocted and created as if they had nothing better to do. Maybe it was a slip of his mind, a way to remember Safrin’s words to him, a meaning of lures and bait, as pieces that looked like gold filled his palms, and he unfurled them with Air magic, letting the snares ripple across the wake of the cobblestones, dirt, and snow.
you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight
all venom and fistfight
