DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
His brows furrowed, though it wasn’t out of any particular emotion, merely listening to the notions as they unfurled and unraveled. “I see.” While he’d made surprise items in the past, like engagement rings, they’d also been discussed beforehand – and the Sword hoped that while Sah certainly had his thoughts in order about protecting his loved ones, that they’d also been considered in the exchange.
He watched as the paper was turned around and more portions were being pieced together, wondering if he should be on his way so that Sah could continue working on the project. But then more inquiries were asked, and his eyes went to the parchment again, and the detailed designs beginning to take shape. “Probably. Maybe you could put other things they like within them as well?” Unless both preferred the simpler outlines – but Deimos always liked to make the etchings personalized amidst hordes of designations. Like Soleil's wild, adventurous spirit. Luka's forthright, honest personality. One down to the earth, the other aiming for the skies.
He watched as the paper was turned around and more portions were being pieced together, wondering if he should be on his way so that Sah could continue working on the project. But then more inquiries were asked, and his eyes went to the parchment again, and the detailed designs beginning to take shape. “Probably. Maybe you could put other things they like within them as well?” Unless both preferred the simpler outlines – but Deimos always liked to make the etchings personalized amidst hordes of designations. Like Soleil's wild, adventurous spirit. Luka's forthright, honest personality. One down to the earth, the other aiming for the skies.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
