DAMIEN
I know it's been a long time coming
I'm angry and I know that's weak
I'm angry and I know that's weak
Damien’s gaze flicked briefly to Zuriel as she raised her neck, her regal posture and aloof expression marking her as no ordinary companion. He kept his distance, noting the subtle tension in her movements; an unspoken warning wrapped in grace. Loyal to Deimos, she was clearly unimpressed by strangers, and Damien filed the observation away with quiet caution, treating her more as a presence to respect than a creature to engage.
He stepped back, watching as the magic flared, the tree splintering cleanly at the Warden’s will. His expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of calculation crossed his eyes, reminded that some problems yield to a single, deft gesture.
“Efficient,” he said finally, tone neutral. He bent to drag one of the severed sections clear, hauling it with a practiced ease and laying it alongside the sled. “Better than wrestling with a saw all day.”
He adjusted his gloves, straightening. “That’ll go a long way,” he remarked as Deimos spoke of sharing the wood, his gaze steady. “Halo’s winter doesn’t take kindly to the unprepared.”
“I’ll help you load the rest,” he added, glancing toward the sled. “And I can keep a closer eye on the notice board. If you ever need more hands for this kind of work, I'll answer.”
After helping for some time, an out-of-the-ordinary movement caught Damien's eye. His eyes shifted to the deeper woods, catching the faint golden glow of antlers barely visible between the trees. A small, distant cluster of luxere moved beneath the boughs, their glow dimmed by distance but unmistakable. Damien’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through his usual reserve.
“Luxere out there, near the ridge," he nodded in the direction. His gaze flicked to Deimos for a moment- measuring, curious if the Warden was inclined to hunt the creatures.
He stepped back, watching as the magic flared, the tree splintering cleanly at the Warden’s will. His expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of calculation crossed his eyes, reminded that some problems yield to a single, deft gesture.
“Efficient,” he said finally, tone neutral. He bent to drag one of the severed sections clear, hauling it with a practiced ease and laying it alongside the sled. “Better than wrestling with a saw all day.”
He adjusted his gloves, straightening. “That’ll go a long way,” he remarked as Deimos spoke of sharing the wood, his gaze steady. “Halo’s winter doesn’t take kindly to the unprepared.”
“I’ll help you load the rest,” he added, glancing toward the sled. “And I can keep a closer eye on the notice board. If you ever need more hands for this kind of work, I'll answer.”
After helping for some time, an out-of-the-ordinary movement caught Damien's eye. His eyes shifted to the deeper woods, catching the faint golden glow of antlers barely visible between the trees. A small, distant cluster of luxere moved beneath the boughs, their glow dimmed by distance but unmistakable. Damien’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through his usual reserve.
“Luxere out there, near the ridge," he nodded in the direction. His gaze flicked to Deimos for a moment- measuring, curious if the Warden was inclined to hunt the creatures.
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
