DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Family altered and changed; he’d learned that long ago, but it hadn’t truly sunk in. There’d been a loss of those blood ties for him ages and lifetimes before, and years where he didn’t bother trying or striving for anything new. Hidden, tucked away, without anything embedded in his nefarious, wicked, seditious heart. Because it hurt too much. Because he was tired of striving forward, and the rest of it disappearing around him. A rock, a monolith, in the sweeping tides and currents, in the avalanche of careening ice and rime. He stayed. He stood. He remained, chiseled and sculpted until he could no longer; when all the erosion suddenly gave way, and he toppled, crashed, and perished. And then lived again.
There should’ve been others at the table, seated alongside, gathered and burrowed within, laughing and teasing, cackling and cajoling. But they could cherish what they had – for he was exhausted too at the thought of it being vanquished again – and friends were just as much kin and brethren.
He passed the glasses of cider over to proper places, as they all seemed to ponder the best strategy in navigating Kiada’s lack of senses. As he sat, his plate already filled with the meat courtesy of the Harpy, he started gathering the potatoes and vegetables too, serving whomever wanted to partake.
The toast caused him to pause – surely they were on more than their second chance by now – but he grinned instead, tilting his head again in the vague means of curiosity and intrigue, mind spinning. Instead of prompting further mischief, he raised his glass, clinking it against the others. He didn’t have the right words to express the moment anyway, so he gave into his silence.
Thereafter, cutting portions of the ursur, and placing it within his mouth encouraged speculation, contemplating experiences with other hunted game. “Bit sweeter than venison.”
Unite and spread the heart apart
