Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
As soon as Loren’s own enchantments flew, a resurgence, a renewal, a rebuttal, the unicorn shifted away, a toss of her defiant head, a raised stature, chin on a particular ascent, dictating some obvious irritation at not being enough. On a sigh, Deimos rose back to his full height, hand reaching to scratch at her ears, a few pats on her neck, her efforts appreciated. Loren’s gratitude might have mollified some of the irritation scorching through the mare’s existence, to which the Sword could only shrug; used to the tempestuous, mercurial moods. “You are welcome,” he added, the finality of the moments entangled, tethered, and lines; largely satisfied with the distortion of magic, of learning, of a bewitching sagacity to utilize and mull over for the future. Then, they could part, back on their mutual ways, strength restored and calculations scaling.
DEIMOS
