the wild screaming weight

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us He had to wonder what Ru would think now, in all these underlying, warped motions. While she said she no longer cared, that she had to move onward, forwards, all over again, finding and forging new paths - she likely didn’t want the Flood to remain in this state. Ru was capable of saying many things, and leaving multitudes buried under the surface; but Deimos had no sway in wherever the Archon’s ambitions meandered, only advice many never bothered to take. Despite it being another mistake in a long litany of errors, this one could be mended and solved, but it’d be up to Sunjata himself. A control of his own destiny, rather than a heart clutched and taken, scurried away until the aftermath was too massive, unpredictable, unknown, before everything came to the surface. A long breath unfurled as they drew over another vibrant plain, catching the confession over parallels of streams and grazing luxere. Not planning on it for an eternity gave a slight tilt to his thunderbird head; aware of how easy to was to be consumed by loss. Grief and trauma and apprehension had no timeframe; it came and went on the wind, ghosts creeping into the back of the skull, wraiths at the corner of one’s eyes. And when one couldn’t lament? His eyes narrowed, focused on the arches and lines of greenery ahead. Understandable. He started at first, pondering if he should close it there, no more inquiries, no more questions, let Sunjata find root in the shell. But Deimos could maneuver in these situations too, offer lifelines that required nothing but pragmatic calculations – for both regions. Let me know if you are still interested in trade. A show that they could still work together, and around, the current situation. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left