DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Deimos could admit to foolishness when it became readily apparent. He wasn’t immune to mistakes; but not since the war against the Family had he managed to become so injured and mauled, and all due to a race amidst time and space, intending to save one of his own.
But the sled he and several other soldiers dragged bore evidence of their success – a tracker, wrapped in woolen blankets, managing to sit upright, for now, and an ursur carcass behind him, still as stone. Just he and his fellow warriors had taken the brunt of everything; slashes, tears, wounds along the juncture of legs or arms. Even his, long ragged claw marks down the length of his shoulder, rampaged in a stream of blood – half torn between shaking his head, clenching his jaw, and simply getting the job done. He’d left Zuriel behind to tend to the other man who’d been brought in, and he could fathom the multiple lectures they’d all receive upon returning home.
Belial hadn’t been left in the Citadel though, and scouted ahead, giving them some time to cross along the top portions of the Sea of Glass with a lookout. As they pulled and tugged though, the peryton let out a hoot, and Deimos turned to catch a glimpse of a woman racing across the surface. Wondering if there’d been another victim here, or just one more pinnacle of threats lingering nearby, his deep rumble cut across the sanction. “You all right?”
But the sled he and several other soldiers dragged bore evidence of their success – a tracker, wrapped in woolen blankets, managing to sit upright, for now, and an ursur carcass behind him, still as stone. Just he and his fellow warriors had taken the brunt of everything; slashes, tears, wounds along the juncture of legs or arms. Even his, long ragged claw marks down the length of his shoulder, rampaged in a stream of blood – half torn between shaking his head, clenching his jaw, and simply getting the job done. He’d left Zuriel behind to tend to the other man who’d been brought in, and he could fathom the multiple lectures they’d all receive upon returning home.
Belial hadn’t been left in the Citadel though, and scouted ahead, giving them some time to cross along the top portions of the Sea of Glass with a lookout. As they pulled and tugged though, the peryton let out a hoot, and Deimos turned to catch a glimpse of a woman racing across the surface. Wondering if there’d been another victim here, or just one more pinnacle of threats lingering nearby, his deep rumble cut across the sanction. “You all right?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
