DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Eternally careful, Deimos only stepped aside from lanterns and lights for a moment – ensuring Erebos was close at hand, even if occupied with another youth nearby. The laughter was enough to reassure, though rapid glances were constant, in between opening his bag of holding and snagging at the remnants of ice as Sunjata made his way over. “This one does not seem as cheery,” he gestured, dark and dry humor infused, with his jawline to the general periphery of lightning overhead and darker shadows; perhaps an omen as to why his trepidation lingered tight in his chest – between waiting for Evie and the festival itself, he remained steadfast, on guard, and spine straight, a constant reeling alert as if anticipating something monstrous and disastrous. He’d often thought they wouldn’t have to live like that after the Family; but the weather and other extenuating circumstances meant he’d be a dutiful hound hovering over his son and guaranteeing they wouldn’t be here for too long.
Regardless, as the youth roamed nearby under bounding curls and an innocent outlook on asinine weather, he snagged at the bits of ice, waiting for Sunjata to do the same with unicorn proportions and the inevitable exchange.
Regardless, as the youth roamed nearby under bounding curls and an innocent outlook on asinine weather, he snagged at the bits of ice, waiting for Sunjata to do the same with unicorn proportions and the inevitable exchange.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
