It's taken a lifetime to lose my way
All the wasted time on my hands turns to sand
He stood still in the silence for a moment, brow arching as the quiet flickered over. Lowering the shield until the ice and rock dispersed back into the tundra’s plain, he watched the prone body – only snorting thereafter and beginning to move towards the beast. “Very much so,” he offered in return, one boot lightly tapping at the paw of the corpse. Belial appeared again, soaring upward, granting out some hoot of either enthusiasm or victory. “Too bad about the fur.” But the Sword could only shrug; singed portions would likely not be a fought over commodity back home, but the flesh and bones would be a noteworthy fixture of uses. Glancing back at Liam, he permitted a small grin – one of those pieces that had left his features and face when immersed in battle. “You want any of it?”
Then his eyes narrowed on his sled nearby. Practical as ever, he went to snag it. “You are welcome to help load it up and we can head back,” unless that wasn’t in the Accepted’s current purview; it wouldn’t take Deimos long to commit to the notions on his own.
Then his eyes narrowed on his sled nearby. Practical as ever, he went to snag it. “You are welcome to help load it up and we can head back,” unless that wasn’t in the Accepted’s current purview; it wouldn’t take Deimos long to commit to the notions on his own.
I'm fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
