where I save you and you save me
The Sword snorted at the finality of it all, shaking his head in rough amusement, the conclusion beginning to click into place. “That is normal. He has bonded himself to you.” He let that sink in for a second, head resting gently on his son’s curly mop of hair so that there was a calming, placating interlude, a breath of stillness so Erebos would take a second to understand. Deimos had shared space with Zuriel and Belial for so long he’d forgotten what it might feel like upon initial standards – that flight of panic when the first instant of another’s thoughts and feelings interjected with one’s own. His unicorn always beheld her haughty nature, his peryton the unrelenting, obnoxious beacons of mischief; but he could always differentiate them from his own. It might not be so easy for his son, despite the sneaking suspicion that this had been done entirely on purpose - just not accounted for actually ever occurring. A bold endeavor with a favorable outcome.
“Perhaps he thought you would be a good caretaker.” A provider, a giver of treats and food. A break from the wilderness and a soft, warm bed with a child, who, once he got over the startled proportions, would be an endless source of entertainment to love and cherish. “You will have to name him.”
“Perhaps he thought you would be a good caretaker.” A provider, a giver of treats and food. A break from the wilderness and a soft, warm bed with a child, who, once he got over the startled proportions, would be an endless source of entertainment to love and cherish. “You will have to name him.”
Deimos
and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly
