Damien
and every demon wants his pound of flesh
but i like to keep some things to myself
but i like to keep some things to myself
Damien’s head lifted at the call, the faint thread of sound tugging him back to the present. He stood quiet for a beat longer than necessary, jaw set like he was reluctant to break whatever had settled between them here by the shrine. Finally, he exhaled, short and sharp, the kind of breath a man takes when he’s about to turn his back on something that mattered more than he expected.
“Yeah,” he said, the word weighted, not rushed. “That's for me.” He glanced toward the sound, then back at her. The wind dragged a strand of hair across his brow, and he didn’t bother to push it away. "I'm Damien, by the way.”
The corner of his mouth pulled, not quite a smile, but less grim than before. “Hope you find what you’re looking for. Or at least make some peace with the parts that won’t change. Takes guts to even try.”
He gave the shrine one last flicker of a look—where the antler lay pale among the bones—then turned, shoulders settling as though he was slipping a weight back into place. “Safe travels,” he added, low, and started toward the voice that called him, the sand swallowing his steps as he went.
“Yeah,” he said, the word weighted, not rushed. “That's for me.” He glanced toward the sound, then back at her. The wind dragged a strand of hair across his brow, and he didn’t bother to push it away. "I'm Damien, by the way.”
The corner of his mouth pulled, not quite a smile, but less grim than before. “Hope you find what you’re looking for. Or at least make some peace with the parts that won’t change. Takes guts to even try.”
He gave the shrine one last flicker of a look—where the antler lay pale among the bones—then turned, shoulders settling as though he was slipping a weight back into place. “Safe travels,” he added, low, and started toward the voice that called him, the sand swallowing his steps as he went.
