DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Did more have the means now? Or was it the growing interest? The desperation? He didn’t have the answers, and the rampant speculation only drew another faint snort from him. He wouldn’t argue the points; there was no sense in it, but a casual and cool reminder that too many things were up in the air.
Her own assertions about his social claim – or lack thereof, drew another arch to his brow. He did have a wide network of individuals – some trusted, some cherished, some he wouldn’t hesitate to throw down a ravine at the slightest opportunity. But meetings, danger, and all the ill will unsettled amidst the world just made him crave his home and family more than ever, and how, had he not been the person he was now, it easy it could’ve been to slide into the cold landscape and be left alone. “Well, he is only one,” he regarded instead, shifting his eyes across the horizon, the brush of void fox fur long gone. “I will give him a few more years,” he added with a wrinkle to his nose, a sign of self-deprecation and juvenility, rather than any seriousness.
As for Elizabeth’s own impending and growing business, it said much for the state of the world. “At least some will have support then,” which was far more than what they’d had merely years ago. “Do you get many from other regions?”
Her own assertions about his social claim – or lack thereof, drew another arch to his brow. He did have a wide network of individuals – some trusted, some cherished, some he wouldn’t hesitate to throw down a ravine at the slightest opportunity. But meetings, danger, and all the ill will unsettled amidst the world just made him crave his home and family more than ever, and how, had he not been the person he was now, it easy it could’ve been to slide into the cold landscape and be left alone. “Well, he is only one,” he regarded instead, shifting his eyes across the horizon, the brush of void fox fur long gone. “I will give him a few more years,” he added with a wrinkle to his nose, a sign of self-deprecation and juvenility, rather than any seriousness.
As for Elizabeth’s own impending and growing business, it said much for the state of the world. “At least some will have support then,” which was far more than what they’d had merely years ago. “Do you get many from other regions?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
