DEIMOS
Ru’in; ghosts of past, present, and undoubtedly, the future. He listened as she briefly described this Harper character, and Deimos could only wonder if there was some damning league pressing and foreboding again, or if he was just being dragged into this apprehensive space and state. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe it would all crumble into dust. Maybe it would meet somewhere in the middle, and Kiada would be happy, and content. It was interesting to hear her not place Ru’in into either the charming or nice category, but he hadn’t known the boy well. Deimos had perished well before they’d begun their stories, and then Ru’in had done the same.
But then she was gone, compelled and summoned by her flock. Left to his own devices for a moment, he turned back into the void, glancing again for any significant leaves with their greenery still attached, still adorned, with a feeling of life (so much harder these days). He didn’t expect her to come landing back upon his shoulder, the press of her talons sinking into his clothing, into his skin, and he rolled them to fend her off.
Except there were leaves in her mouth, and he gently snagged them out of beaks and grasps. There were several bright and vivid, but with a touch of brown, as if they’d already started peeling away from junctures of earth. But one in particular caught his eye, and he held it up to the sunlight, the slightest smile fixed on his face. “This will.” Vibrant, fresh off the vine, without the decaying ends. Thank you.
But then she was gone, compelled and summoned by her flock. Left to his own devices for a moment, he turned back into the void, glancing again for any significant leaves with their greenery still attached, still adorned, with a feeling of life (so much harder these days). He didn’t expect her to come landing back upon his shoulder, the press of her talons sinking into his clothing, into his skin, and he rolled them to fend her off.
Except there were leaves in her mouth, and he gently snagged them out of beaks and grasps. There were several bright and vivid, but with a touch of brown, as if they’d already started peeling away from junctures of earth. But one in particular caught his eye, and he held it up to the sunlight, the slightest smile fixed on his face. “This will.” Vibrant, fresh off the vine, without the decaying ends. Thank you.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
