DEIMOS
When Kiada’s inclinations reigned towards the icebergs, cut out of the sea like jutting swords, he willingly applied, a ghostly, silent reign along the skies, swooping intervals to align with the water. Keen eyes caught the barest glimpse of movement below, and his head tilted, studying, examining in silence, caught between the potential for curiosity and excitement, or if it was nothing, nothing at all but a trick of the clouds or some mirage orchestrated by the dwindling sun. He descended slowly, coasting fathoms above the water, seeking and searching – But Amalia goes lower, pressed and incited by the same endeavors. He listened to her call into the depths, and the pulsing wake of inquiry flooded through their senses and bonds, his wingspan reaching a little higher, more cautious, protective, intending to dive and shield if necessary. Jyoti’s following trill made him wonder, made him ponder, made him yearn to reach towards those wakes too – calculations overbearing, overwhelming, along his throat and quiet.
--
Deimos hovers above Amalia and Jyoti, looking down for the thing possibly beneath the ice.
"who's gonna let you?"
they asked. i said
"who's gonna stop me?"
