DEIMOS
what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength
didn't have the strength
Deimos had hunted here once, amidst the Metacarpal, helped wretch some portions apart with others while the void lurched and leered. It wasn’t any less carnivorous now, he reckoned, save for the less infested contortions and purplish hues, but he had no intentions of throwing himself into the arms and eaves of crimson roots today – staying along the shoreline, utilizing the closeness and backdrop to peer across towards Starfall.
Inviting Sunjata over was a means to an end as well – to plot and scheme and toil away on the coast – figuring they could at least impart what had been accomplished in the past few seasons, and the intentions behind impending maneuvers. Especially when they hadn’t been summoned to this next portion – but aware that whenever the moments were right, it’d be happening regardless.
A seemingly unending cycle – paths to follow, beasts to slay, and worlds to protect. And despite knowing the lines drawn, it never did make it any easier.
So he stood amongst the shoal and sand, away from the lined borders of thrashing or silent plant life, going through portions of his bag, checking over conditions on certain objects. Senses attuned, at the ready, always blending through his Attuned measures, would ascertain anything arriving.
Inviting Sunjata over was a means to an end as well – to plot and scheme and toil away on the coast – figuring they could at least impart what had been accomplished in the past few seasons, and the intentions behind impending maneuvers. Especially when they hadn’t been summoned to this next portion – but aware that whenever the moments were right, it’d be happening regardless.
A seemingly unending cycle – paths to follow, beasts to slay, and worlds to protect. And despite knowing the lines drawn, it never did make it any easier.
So he stood amongst the shoal and sand, away from the lined borders of thrashing or silent plant life, going through portions of his bag, checking over conditions on certain objects. Senses attuned, at the ready, always blending through his Attuned measures, would ascertain anything arriving.
still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke
sturdy and smelling of smoke
