DEIMOS
A brief skimming over water, as if talons meant to grab at fish below the surface, before gliding upwards and around the monstrous beacons, things made of sinew and flesh and tissue just like them, only the tangible reaches of their marrow were visible to the naked eye. He rose in unison with the Shield, glimpses of flashing wings and pinnacles of concentration, listening to the particulars, to the responses to his inquiries. Not like whatever was under the reaches of ice then, and there was a solidified nod in his movements, but delving no further; because he wouldn’t know, lacking in the experience. They’d had monsters and heathens, fiends and false-gods – nearly everything here was new, foreign, and enigmatic. One moment known, and the rest scattered, a series of trials and circumstances; familiar in its ilk.Another breath and he wound his way back into the sky, tracing filaments and ethers, vestiges and sea breezes. Chasing down ramparts and nothingness in between, content with leaving the ghost whales behind (and any other haunting measures, cataclysms that came with wraiths and phantoms), his piercing glance slid back over to her. An invitation to whatever suited, last chances of repose and tranquility before daunting wiles and soulless enterprises, the wake of opportunities eventually to slip out of reach. What next?
And then a furtive, amusing notion slipped its way into his mind, conjured across the bond. Remind me to tell you another gift Safrin gave us, because in between ceremonies, receptions, and the like, there hadn’t been ample amounts of time to drift and see.
"who's gonna let you?"
they asked. i said
"who's gonna stop me?"
