always prepared

Deimos Evening pressed, and the world lit up anew in wares and foundations, stones marked and etched in scrupulous fixtures and factions. His attention, meticulous and conniving, ranged from the strangers lurking amongst shadows, where lantern light didn’t touch, his imposing figure cutting through crowds, and studying stalls, kiosks, for something appropriate for the Shield. Parting ways only to run more errands and to take care of other matters, his wanderings had turned into musing and mulling of the world here. The Moonlit Tides hadn’t had these lively assortments, the cloak and dagger ministrations, or the promise of riches. Instead, the ocean had been cold and distant, but strong and potent just the same – made them tough, formidable, fortified beacons for the next onslaught, when childhood was over, when wars rampaged on the horizon, and savoring the damp sand was a forgotten blessing. As unfamiliar as this portion of the kingdom was, it still settled into his curiosity, speculation, and amusement (as barren as that had been as of late). The Sword meandered through a bundle of clustered people, towering above the assortment, before inspecting some other notions of jewelry nearby, some charms clustered like stars and moons, clusters of ideas that he could either replicate or barter for. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime