DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Perhaps he was a fool, to permit, instigate, and invoke an evening where he didn’t plot, where he didn’t claw, where he didn’t run capricious calculations or train in his yard, hacking at unmoving targets. But those days had been plenty: fraught with peril, with injustice, with danger, with subterfuge, with primordial predilections, and barbaric twists and turns. Upon his extension of invitations, the Reaper ensured this evening was for them, and nothing else.The grouse he’d slain in the morning had been plucked, now set aside, cut and portioned into slices, easier to cook over the fire, along the stove, and he’d grabbed ahold of some rudimentary, simple plates for later and putting them on the small table – keeping himself busy instead of pacing the floor. The rest of the house was completely unburdened: Spartan, bare, plain, and stark, save for the weapons adorning the walls. His favorites had earned their place as décor, from swords to cutlasses to rapiers, and then there was a further assemblage of various daggers, throwing knives, and stilettos along the threshold, all in their proper places. Opening any drawer would likely reveal a complete set of some form of munitions, all in the experience and practice of utilizing and creating his own arms, with no need of a blacksmith – some with unfinished hilts and more austere designs, when he’d been devising how to ornament and enhance Remi’s gifted dagger. Upstairs only held his wardrobe, his bed, and perhaps one ornamental present, but otherwise, it didn’t hold much significance. It was a house, serving a purpose.
It wasn’t going to impress her, but as he tilted his head and considered the room, he doubted she had high expectations.
Unite and spread the heart apart
