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 spotted movement through the trees—a dark shape pacing across the snow, massive shoulders rolling as Deimos hauled his kill by the neck. The hellhound was a sight to watch in motion, like a fiery shadow that had grown teeth. Damien let his gaze linger a moment, the pragmatic part of him noting how clean the takedown had been. Efficient. No thrashing, no wasted time.
He crouched beside the doe he’d just finished, gripping her by the forelegs and dragging her through the churned powder toward the sled. The work was cold and slow, his breath fogging in short bursts, but the weight was familiar enough. By the time he reached the sled, Deimos was already there, Zuriel looking unimpressed and the winged stag-thing—Belial—trailing along behind.
“Clean kill,” Damien said of Deimos' as he heaved the doe into place. He lashed the carcass down with practiced knots, pausing only to glance and nod toward Belial. “Does it eat meat?” His tone wasn’t wary, just curious. If it did, indeed, eat meat, then he thought the companion deserving of some of the bounty it had helped acquire. But... it was difficult to tell.
Once the last deer was secured, Damien straightened, stretching the tightness from his shoulders. His gaze flicked briefly to Deimos, the corner of his mouth quirking in something like a half-smile. “So… does this count as a good enough hunt for that guild offer you mentioned?” He didn’t say yes outright, but the curiosity in his voice was clear enough. Maybe it was a reckless thought—throwing himself in with monster hunters—but recklessness had a certain appeal when the alternative was more years of the same.
He crouched beside the doe he’d just finished, gripping her by the forelegs and dragging her through the churned powder toward the sled. The work was cold and slow, his breath fogging in short bursts, but the weight was familiar enough. By the time he reached the sled, Deimos was already there, Zuriel looking unimpressed and the winged stag-thing—Belial—trailing along behind.
“Clean kill,” Damien said of Deimos' as he heaved the doe into place. He lashed the carcass down with practiced knots, pausing only to glance and nod toward Belial. “Does it eat meat?” His tone wasn’t wary, just curious. If it did, indeed, eat meat, then he thought the companion deserving of some of the bounty it had helped acquire. But... it was difficult to tell.
Once the last deer was secured, Damien straightened, stretching the tightness from his shoulders. His gaze flicked briefly to Deimos, the corner of his mouth quirking in something like a half-smile. “So… does this count as a good enough hunt for that guild offer you mentioned?” He didn’t say yes outright, but the curiosity in his voice was clear enough. Maybe it was a reckless thought—throwing himself in with monster hunters—but recklessness had a certain appeal when the alternative was more years of the same.
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
