DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Senses attuned, predator, carnivore emblems and statutes, rambling along that abyss, contorting through his mind with each step. The bear’s actions. Aisha’s tactical maneuvers. And it should’ve been easier for him, with a pelt made to blend into the backdrop and scenery of the Siberian void. It should’ve been practical, guaranteed, that he could apply himself into the coils of the ambush, but once again, it was not to be.
The ursur ceased its grumbling movements, and a sharp raise of its head, a lifting of its nose, gave the Sword away. He breathed for a moment, not giving into panic, not being swayed by the trepidation warring its way into his bones; this was like all the other times. All the other monsters. All the other creatures that walked this earth, that he’d faced over and over again.
And sometimes been punished for his gall.
With a lumbering growl, a menacing pulse, the beast faced him. For half a second, both of them seemed to size one another up; who would be stronger, who would be greater, who would rise to the forefront.
The bear declared him an opponent in the next interval, reaching, surging forward, a paw reaching out to swipe. Deimos lunged in the opposite direction, intending to put some distance between them, to serve as a distraction, a deterrent, steering the disgruntled behemoth away from Aisha.
He could take the pain. He always had.
It arrived with the claws, nearly knocking him asunder, as the massive foreleg slashed into his right side, along his hind, spinning his movements and motions outward. First blood to spatter against the snow, to stain along the pristine ivory, and with it came a spike of his own vitriol and menace, a hiss, and maybe opportunity for the leopard, if she could maintain her luck.
The ursur ceased its grumbling movements, and a sharp raise of its head, a lifting of its nose, gave the Sword away. He breathed for a moment, not giving into panic, not being swayed by the trepidation warring its way into his bones; this was like all the other times. All the other monsters. All the other creatures that walked this earth, that he’d faced over and over again.
And sometimes been punished for his gall.
With a lumbering growl, a menacing pulse, the beast faced him. For half a second, both of them seemed to size one another up; who would be stronger, who would be greater, who would rise to the forefront.
The bear declared him an opponent in the next interval, reaching, surging forward, a paw reaching out to swipe. Deimos lunged in the opposite direction, intending to put some distance between them, to serve as a distraction, a deterrent, steering the disgruntled behemoth away from Aisha.
He could take the pain. He always had.
It arrived with the claws, nearly knocking him asunder, as the massive foreleg slashed into his right side, along his hind, spinning his movements and motions outward. First blood to spatter against the snow, to stain along the pristine ivory, and with it came a spike of his own vitriol and menace, a hiss, and maybe opportunity for the leopard, if she could maintain her luck.
still standing
not because you can
but because you have to
