DEIMOS
Home – connotations of repose, of sanctums, of sanctuaries. A place of refuge, to unfold, to unfurl, from the horrors, trials, and tribulations, to find some semblance of order and understanding. Torchline hadn’t been any of those things, meant to be a respite, a vacation, and it’d become anything but.
So perhaps here, back into the thicket of known claws, thorns, and the mettle they’d dug into the earth. Maybe here was where they’d renew and resurge, and he could establish fortifications again. More than just the barracks themselves, but the strength, the restitution, marbled and walled off in his own heart, in the beating conflictions, in the warring brutality they’d faced over and over and over. A moment without revolutions.
They made it the house nestled along the edges first, head poking in briefly to put down his bag, to check for sights and sounds of Amalia. When silence and stillness only returned, he maneuvered back along the lawn, crossing towards the backyard, where Zuriel waited. “I kept my promise,” he rumbled, and the unicorn nodded, pleased and gratified as he brought forth an entire bucket of sliced carrots, dropping it down before her, patting the mare’s neck. “Well done.” Keeping them safe, whole, and mended as best she could – strangers and Flood alike. Then he went to unbraid her mane, large fingers working quickly, efficiently, intending to spoil the unicorn for all her efforts. He’d make his rounds around the world later – taking this stretch, this opportunity, for minute peace, the slow stretch of a smile rounding the edges of his mouth.
So perhaps here, back into the thicket of known claws, thorns, and the mettle they’d dug into the earth. Maybe here was where they’d renew and resurge, and he could establish fortifications again. More than just the barracks themselves, but the strength, the restitution, marbled and walled off in his own heart, in the beating conflictions, in the warring brutality they’d faced over and over and over. A moment without revolutions.
They made it the house nestled along the edges first, head poking in briefly to put down his bag, to check for sights and sounds of Amalia. When silence and stillness only returned, he maneuvered back along the lawn, crossing towards the backyard, where Zuriel waited. “I kept my promise,” he rumbled, and the unicorn nodded, pleased and gratified as he brought forth an entire bucket of sliced carrots, dropping it down before her, patting the mare’s neck. “Well done.” Keeping them safe, whole, and mended as best she could – strangers and Flood alike. Then he went to unbraid her mane, large fingers working quickly, efficiently, intending to spoil the unicorn for all her efforts. He’d make his rounds around the world later – taking this stretch, this opportunity, for minute peace, the slow stretch of a smile rounding the edges of his mouth.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
