DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
A nod hastened towards Sah’s plausibilities and thoughts, clearly experienced in survival, and he turned, shifting, drawing his pace to a slower, more methodical approach. His intentions weren’t to alarm their prey before they even had the chance to reflect or plan, and there’d be no sense in chasing down something rampaging by. So he inclined towards the rock outcropping he’d spotted before, the surface jutting out at a severe angle, concealing the moose from their sight. They were downwind enough to hopefully not be an issue concerning detection, and the once-savage, nefarious, swift stride was diminished to softer footfalls, an elegant, refined pace of danger, of treachery, a predator’s diligent, experienced march. Zuriel followed suit, her split hooves ambling easily over the rimed surface – and her presence not likely noted as a threat by anything else nearby.
The General briefly glanced over his shoulder at Sah, expecting the other to be close at hand. “Some caches. I have been freezing and storing the wares.” A distinct motion of ice unfurled across his palms, over gloves, hovering there for a moment, before disappearing back into the semblance of his veins. When they reached the higher-rising stones, he angled himself towards it surface, crouching low enough for his monolithic form to not be so easily spotted by the grazing animals – massive, large, and about four of them to choose from. “Watch them move. Which one do you want to go after?” A whisper, a grumble from his chest, keen eyes inspecting and scrutinizing. If Sah had been a canine in his past world, then Deimos presumed the instinct would still be there – go for the weakest, the slowest, the ones who could be picked off without trouble, and wouldn’t crumble the ecosystem with its loss.
The General briefly glanced over his shoulder at Sah, expecting the other to be close at hand. “Some caches. I have been freezing and storing the wares.” A distinct motion of ice unfurled across his palms, over gloves, hovering there for a moment, before disappearing back into the semblance of his veins. When they reached the higher-rising stones, he angled himself towards it surface, crouching low enough for his monolithic form to not be so easily spotted by the grazing animals – massive, large, and about four of them to choose from. “Watch them move. Which one do you want to go after?” A whisper, a grumble from his chest, keen eyes inspecting and scrutinizing. If Sah had been a canine in his past world, then Deimos presumed the instinct would still be there – go for the weakest, the slowest, the ones who could be picked off without trouble, and wouldn’t crumble the ecosystem with its loss.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
