DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The mental image of even playing charades made him grimace, and inwardly he simply settled for a break away from travel and traversing and constantly shifting tides for just a retreat and reprieve towards home. Torchline could have their big celebrations and bonfires upon the beach too – even if Halo were to host such an event, the Sword doubted multitudes would come simply based on the cold (which was fine to him).
Granting a light smile instead, he nodded. “You are welcome.” Head tilting at the offer though, he shook it thereafter. “It is appreciated, but perhaps another time.” When they all hadn’t been so unmoored and rattled, when things began to feel normal again. “Take care.”
And from there, he could give a final nod, before venturing back the way he’d come – heading towards the shelter he craved.
{FIN}
Granting a light smile instead, he nodded. “You are welcome.” Head tilting at the offer though, he shook it thereafter. “It is appreciated, but perhaps another time.” When they all hadn’t been so unmoored and rattled, when things began to feel normal again. “Take care.”
And from there, he could give a final nod, before venturing back the way he’d come – heading towards the shelter he craved.
{FIN}
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
