in the same storm

Change everything you are and everything you were

Your number has been called

With the gate opened, the monolith resumed his position behind the catapult, allowing leverage and strength to push it forward, wheels turning along dry ground, content to be maneuvered through the training grounds, and out along the sanction of roads and paths. Oliver’s worries and apprehensions were things nearly held by routine, so he thought nothing of them, other than facts, figures, and sentiments already borne from the nuances and calculations gathered elsewhere. The blacksmith would not, could not, find comfort in Deimos’ inability to express any of those things – not for the moment, not when he could barely manage himself beyond reticence or anger, but he could at least relate details and particulars back to him. The low rumble exuded while he shoved and forced, eyes not on the other individual, but the streets ahead. “You can get more at the Climb, apparently. At the hot springs.” If Oliver was up for making that sort of journey, or if he found another needing to make the trip. The Sword had been led by Loren, and they’d wandered off into a cavern of gems instead.

Why Oliver wanted to come by and see him was baffling and bewildering to the beast, and then the other words following all the more surprising. His eyes narrowed briefly, a stern arch to his brow flickering, before receding back to primordial stoicism. “Thank you.” A pause, while he navigated around a series of rocks and pebbles, the slow going only making him wonder if he’d last the rest of the day out here. “How have the Grounds been?”

DEIMOS