who we are and all that we're trying to be
Some quiet satisfaction embedded itself into his sentiments, as the ants went marching away, departing from where they’d been wreaking havoc. He said or offered nothing to that effect, of what or how he’d done it, eyes surveying the relative calm.
Then it was back to paying attention to his own machinations, watching as more earth shifted and sifted under his power, eventually coming across a drainage pipe, and ceasing his work there. Found a pipe, was a deep rumble and murmur across the bonds, leaving it there with its marker.
Thereafter, he presumed he was meant to move to another, instigating a continuation of the work at hand; simplistic enough, not requiring much consternation or thought (unless something else occurred). He reached another marker, and paws dug into the earth once more.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
