I carried my own ashes to the mountains
Dogs couldn’t snicker or smirk, but the laughter buoyed through Attuned assailments just the same. Motion, precision, and muscle undulated in his manifestations of speed – finally permitted to unleash the vicious, unwinding strides again. As if he were back in the mountains of the Basin, stalking, chasing, proceeding down through summits and peaks, an unmistakable savage, an unrelenting heathen, sovereign of his dominating wake, and enemies standing no chance if and when he’d caught them. There were no shadows to snatch here, no brutalities to machinate, no purposeful demolition in his brutal pace – but a semblance of freedom, of liberation, of nothing, nothing, nothing holding him back. Escaped chains, none of them rattling around his feet, no tethered lines anchoring him down into the doom, into the gloom, where he couldn’t peek out over the edges, couldn’t hasten to the surface no matter how hard he tried.
A brief impression of appreciation formed along his mind, and he sent it towards Chulane; gratitude, recognition of the clarity, of the opportunity.
More obstacles made their shapes and faces known, however. These poor people might’ve been the same he’d terrorized another day, when he and the Warden zigzagged around the streets in haphazard displays of tag. Perhaps they’d come to dread seeing the big black dog, some Grim Reaper demon harking his way through stones and routes. When he noted Chulane refused to hesitate, the beast didn’t either – loosening a long, ricocheting howl – a warning, to permit them to pass; hoping no one was bludgeoned to harm with either of their bulks.
A brief impression of appreciation formed along his mind, and he sent it towards Chulane; gratitude, recognition of the clarity, of the opportunity.
More obstacles made their shapes and faces known, however. These poor people might’ve been the same he’d terrorized another day, when he and the Warden zigzagged around the streets in haphazard displays of tag. Perhaps they’d come to dread seeing the big black dog, some Grim Reaper demon harking his way through stones and routes. When he noted Chulane refused to hesitate, the beast didn’t either – loosening a long, ricocheting howl – a warning, to permit them to pass; hoping no one was bludgeoned to harm with either of their bulks.
DEIMOS
