Pulling Erebos back from the fringe of the stream, he gave another low breath; not wanting to signify any other apprehensions pulsing through his limbs. “Ursur,” he noted with another rumble, releasing the lad so he could stand up if he so chose now. Grabbing hold of two more containers, he hoped the whole peace and ambience of the evening hadn’t been ultimately destroyed and discarded by one singular roaming bear; but it’d given him too much pause, reflection, and trepidation to parse things out of the serenity. “We can fill these and then head back, if you want,” leaving it up to the youth, clenching his jaw slightly under the guise of moonlight and snow.
Leaning forward again, this time he aimed for a pocket of constellations mimicking dippers and ladles, lowering the vessel until it bubbled and contorted, capturing a portion of the twilight, trying to remember and recall the tranquility from moments before, rather than being wholly on edge.
Leaning forward again, this time he aimed for a pocket of constellations mimicking dippers and ladles, lowering the vessel until it bubbled and contorted, capturing a portion of the twilight, trying to remember and recall the tranquility from moments before, rather than being wholly on edge.
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
