until my dying day

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame There were always times to push. To try. To strive. To do something other than mire in complacency. But those opportunities could be in safer areas and modes; away from the scene of imminent death. No one was infallible. Mistakes were made, knowledge was acquired. But gods, what a harsh and unrelenting learning curve upon the Tundra today. He wasn’t going to ask anything – not with her in this state – but the questions were neverending in the annals and swiftness of his mind. Zuriel snorted at her thanks, and Deimos rose from his crouch, searching in his pockets for treats, and patting the unicorn on her head as she daintily grabbed and munched like a queen. “We can go see what is happening,” and he inclined his head towards the city gates, where hordes had already gathered. “And what needs to be done.” Long strides went sweeping, and the unicorn followed, expecting the Luminary to follow, as fellow citizens leered or stood on top of the walls, desperate to see the action across the purple landscape. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace