DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
The Sword gave no sway to the sarcasm – not now, not when senses were honed and keen, when he slunk and maneuvered with careful, direct precision. A forward march over sleek ice, paws digging into the snowy surface, the puffs of curling plumes only unfurling from his nares, honing, waiting, for some precise moment, a hint of the prowess they needed, required.
Aisha’s motions did the trick justifiably well, and the beast followed leathery wings and observations, lifting his head to survey the ridge he’d have to cross. It’d be easier to merely fly, land, and transform back and forth, perhaps, but he craved the same machinations from the singular form he occupied. The molten prowess of the cat, the feral, carnivorous persuasions lingering in the back of his mind, more beast than human, less tempted to flicker into trepidation, into hesitation, the longer he stayed within the tiger’s mind. Predators and predators, waging out the possibilities.
He drifted, angling along, climbing and clambering over the frozen depths and particles – intending to rise to where Aisha hovered, watch and observe the bear, and then decide how they’d like to proceed. Instead of it being a completely silent venture, which had been his main focus and goal in the taut, rigid, motions and movements, one contortion of the ice fell beneath his weight. And while he could maintain his balance with the other feet edging along stony surfaces, the loosened portions were damned and doomed to make an impact – a loud, sudden thud echoing as it fell down into the ridge below.
Were he the General for the moment, there might have been a cheeky, foolish grin, a shrug through his shoulders. He’d have to save those notions for a later time – for with the cacophony of noise echoing across the vast, endless tundra, the ursur’s attention had fully swung towards them.
Aisha’s motions did the trick justifiably well, and the beast followed leathery wings and observations, lifting his head to survey the ridge he’d have to cross. It’d be easier to merely fly, land, and transform back and forth, perhaps, but he craved the same machinations from the singular form he occupied. The molten prowess of the cat, the feral, carnivorous persuasions lingering in the back of his mind, more beast than human, less tempted to flicker into trepidation, into hesitation, the longer he stayed within the tiger’s mind. Predators and predators, waging out the possibilities.
He drifted, angling along, climbing and clambering over the frozen depths and particles – intending to rise to where Aisha hovered, watch and observe the bear, and then decide how they’d like to proceed. Instead of it being a completely silent venture, which had been his main focus and goal in the taut, rigid, motions and movements, one contortion of the ice fell beneath his weight. And while he could maintain his balance with the other feet edging along stony surfaces, the loosened portions were damned and doomed to make an impact – a loud, sudden thud echoing as it fell down into the ridge below.
Were he the General for the moment, there might have been a cheeky, foolish grin, a shrug through his shoulders. He’d have to save those notions for a later time – for with the cacophony of noise echoing across the vast, endless tundra, the ursur’s attention had fully swung towards them.
still standing
not because you can
but because you have to
