DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The walk was initially pleasant enough; long strides sweeping, mind memorizing the pathways and noteworthy shops and people, nodding along as he took his mental tallies. Likely it would’ve continued in the midst of nothing but a tour, when the glass shattered, and his own senses heightened.
Spine straightening, he persisted behind Zavien silently. It wasn’t his jurisdiction, for that was Halo, but notions of soldier depictions and distinctions remained within his figure all the same. Screaming and shouting seemed to ricochet, and his eyes narrowed, waiting for something to come to fruition or light – and as it all unfurled into a realization, his jaw clenched, the muscles tensing and feathering.
Following after the Dragoon, he loosened a very long breath and began picking through the choices they were likely going to have to make. “What is your protocol here?” Snag? Imprison? Trials?
Spine straightening, he persisted behind Zavien silently. It wasn’t his jurisdiction, for that was Halo, but notions of soldier depictions and distinctions remained within his figure all the same. Screaming and shouting seemed to ricochet, and his eyes narrowed, waiting for something to come to fruition or light – and as it all unfurled into a realization, his jaw clenched, the muscles tensing and feathering.
Following after the Dragoon, he loosened a very long breath and began picking through the choices they were likely going to have to make. “What is your protocol here?” Snag? Imprison? Trials?
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
