DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
His eyes wandered from the paper, to the darkness of the evening outside. Just a few sparse, spare moments of parsing through the multitudes of emotions and actions running through his mind – uncertain how well his advice would be received. Not in these maelstroms, where the hurt was too immediate and blunt and focused. Not where abhorrence nearly ran thicker than the blood rushing through veins. He is likely going to need time to recover, both mentally and physically. The trauma was probably bleak and harsh. Maybe, when he is ready, you could have him talk to Elizabeth? As a mere suggestion and nothing more; but her profession was therapy.
He could feel Sah’s rise of anger again at the reminder, but he didn’t care. He meant it, every step of the day, to ignore the idiotic and foolish impulses– presently or in the near future. Lashing out only would’ve made things worse, either at himself or Dahlia, so he narrowed his eyes in warning, and uttered nothing more on the subject.
At his insistence, Zuriel came in – haughty just the same – and began to step lightly towards where Luka rested. While she tended, the notes of apprehension lingered again, rising through his spine like a vice. One day, maybe they wouldn’t feel like this any longer, but it felt like a long, long ways off. Peace and repose were distant relatives by now; glanced upon fondly and with bright memories, but so far away. Do you need anything else? Deimos had another long night ahead of him – increased patrols, more guards at more hours, and ultimately letters going forth, more warnings for the rest of Caido’s masses.
He could feel Sah’s rise of anger again at the reminder, but he didn’t care. He meant it, every step of the day, to ignore the idiotic and foolish impulses– presently or in the near future. Lashing out only would’ve made things worse, either at himself or Dahlia, so he narrowed his eyes in warning, and uttered nothing more on the subject.
At his insistence, Zuriel came in – haughty just the same – and began to step lightly towards where Luka rested. While she tended, the notes of apprehension lingered again, rising through his spine like a vice. One day, maybe they wouldn’t feel like this any longer, but it felt like a long, long ways off. Peace and repose were distant relatives by now; glanced upon fondly and with bright memories, but so far away. Do you need anything else? Deimos had another long night ahead of him – increased patrols, more guards at more hours, and ultimately letters going forth, more warnings for the rest of Caido’s masses.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
