DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
The Greatwood reopened, and the ravenous, rapacious glint in his thoughts contorted, coiled, convoluted in a predacious haze, marking the motions in his strides, in his paws, settling into a savage, stalking pace as he wound through thickets and glades. The familiar outlines of tree limbs, of boughs, of copses, and their pressing marks, feline eyes conspiring and searching, stalking, the arches and etches of his mind unraveling to mere raptorial predilections and not much else. The roar of the water billowed over his senses, turning towards the rushing rivulet, the streamlined current, neither bursting nor sauntering into its midst; a curious outset, an inquiring set of maneuvers. Were he in rapid pursuit, it would’ve been a different story, but instead he wandered along its curves and embankments, the gravel, granules, and sands threading through claws and rough, calloused pads, ears flicking back and forth, listening, listening, listening –
Coiled and bunched muscles, strong hindquarters, launched him on a leap, landing neatly on a set of rocks. On a lark, he lingered towards the Stonesong itself, tail swinging back and forth when his stare caught hold of movement in the water – gold, gilded, fins and scales swimming in the halcyon leisure of the morning sunlight. Feline nature, no matter the size or completely human aspect within, compelled him to watch, pondering, calculating, stare darting back and forth over several others making their appearance known, basking slightly below the surface, highlighted in their goldfish wandering. He devised, he lowered his form, and then made the plunge again – a secondary motion but this time straight into the water, intending to pounce, to dive, to catch, to assail.
Coiled and bunched muscles, strong hindquarters, launched him on a leap, landing neatly on a set of rocks. On a lark, he lingered towards the Stonesong itself, tail swinging back and forth when his stare caught hold of movement in the water – gold, gilded, fins and scales swimming in the halcyon leisure of the morning sunlight. Feline nature, no matter the size or completely human aspect within, compelled him to watch, pondering, calculating, stare darting back and forth over several others making their appearance known, basking slightly below the surface, highlighted in their goldfish wandering. He devised, he lowered his form, and then made the plunge again – a secondary motion but this time straight into the water, intending to pounce, to dive, to catch, to assail.
still standing
not because you can
but because you have to
