and the only solution was to stand and fight
“They already know,” he shrugged, amused, the twitch of a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth again. “I will make up for it later.” He tossed another apple the deer’s way, before casting another glance at the sled, snagging at the lines already tethered and beginning to drag it closer to other logs, inspecting another as Damien began to speak.
He should’ve known the Grounds would come into question – nowadays it was filled with Ancients, and beforehand, given the barrier, it’d likely been a matter of curiosity. “Yes. Was pulled in by the Voice with many others.” Not by choice, but by force, taken from roaming other lands and worlds. If it bothered him nowadays, he didn’t show it, cutting and slicing through another log with a few more motions of his earth magic, Zuriel snorting nearby as she continued to dig for some plantlife beneath pockets and patches of snow. “Besides leading it, you mean?” He gave an arch of his brow, a ghost of amusement flickering around, slightly juvenile aspects. Responsibility and duty tied their way into his shoulders and spine as everyday configurations; there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the region – even so much as last season – between stabbing Pierce and battling monsters in Starfall.
Loading the timber into the sled, he persisted though; it’d been an honest inquiry. “I came from a place very similar to Halo. Maybe I was just drawn to it.” Pausing, after some moment of reflection, he continued, muscles content with the exertion and weight behind the wood. “But I admire the people here. The environment. Everything has to be tough. Persevering.” There wasn't any other option. “So I have bled for it many times to ensure it remains safe.” Defending a world that had taken him in, and being another shield for its power, dominion, and grace. Rolling up his sleeves, he turned the question back. “What keeps you here?”
He should’ve known the Grounds would come into question – nowadays it was filled with Ancients, and beforehand, given the barrier, it’d likely been a matter of curiosity. “Yes. Was pulled in by the Voice with many others.” Not by choice, but by force, taken from roaming other lands and worlds. If it bothered him nowadays, he didn’t show it, cutting and slicing through another log with a few more motions of his earth magic, Zuriel snorting nearby as she continued to dig for some plantlife beneath pockets and patches of snow. “Besides leading it, you mean?” He gave an arch of his brow, a ghost of amusement flickering around, slightly juvenile aspects. Responsibility and duty tied their way into his shoulders and spine as everyday configurations; there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the region – even so much as last season – between stabbing Pierce and battling monsters in Starfall.
Loading the timber into the sled, he persisted though; it’d been an honest inquiry. “I came from a place very similar to Halo. Maybe I was just drawn to it.” Pausing, after some moment of reflection, he continued, muscles content with the exertion and weight behind the wood. “But I admire the people here. The environment. Everything has to be tough. Persevering.” There wasn't any other option. “So I have bled for it many times to ensure it remains safe.” Defending a world that had taken him in, and being another shield for its power, dominion, and grace. Rolling up his sleeves, he turned the question back. “What keeps you here?”
DEIMOS
