[SE] and then that sound is gone

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

Ice was a familiar thing in Halo; beautiful and treacherous, all in the same vein. Common happenstance, given their livelihoods, routines, and region, but sometimes tricky, even making the landscape of the Citadel difficult to traverse.

Overnight, once more, portions of the road had frozen, and upon morning patrol, the Shields had discovered rampant components of the street and avenue along dangerous levels. While the guards successfully blocked off the paths for citizens, urging them towards detours and alternate roads and rows, the Sword got to work.

Facetiously, he thought it was a damn shame that it hadn’t iced over by the council hall, but kept those notions to himself. Instead, he and several others began to utilize their water incantations, altering the elements nearby to melt the frozen components. “We can all start in different spots,” he mentioned via planning, figuring they’d each take a section, turn it into snow, and shovel the pathways free again. Once the directions were given, they could start applying and modifying.

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead