this is the reckoning
The last time the Sword had gone out exploring, the nature of the Attuned manifestations ensured they’d arrived safely home, after several wrong turns, confusion, and overall distortion, inquiry, into the events. He still didn’t know how or why the motions had occurred; there beside the stone steps rising towards the sun, and within the next instant, lingering within the jungle. And while they’d had their share of amusements and hunts, the beast was no closer to the angles and apprehension – merely presuming it had something to do with the Voice (didn’t it always?).
So for these moments strung along days – movements and motions towards the Hollowed Grounds, and then beyond once again – he’d taken his bag of holding with adequate supplies, and his two companions. Zuriel was there for healing measures, as well as some sentiments of wisdom and sagacity, Belial for moments in the sky, breaching proportions in his quiet grace that even Deimos couldn’t adequately tread. For now, paws unfurling as his hellhound endeavors again, the unicorn held onto his bag, and the peryton flew above, content to spring along the ethers of wind.
This was a different trek then he and Aisha had taken before, and the Sword lingered in the opportunity to stare, to wonder, to glance towards the rolling hills, some seeming natural, some mounds clearly covering something. At Noah’s inquiry, his ears swiveled back and forth, piercing eyes taking in the landscape, the potential. This was the world they’d been trying to reach so many seasons ago, embedded and coated in lightning, in fellow unicorn herds. We can try north, he indicated with a toss of his canine head, beginning to instigate motions in that direction.
So for these moments strung along days – movements and motions towards the Hollowed Grounds, and then beyond once again – he’d taken his bag of holding with adequate supplies, and his two companions. Zuriel was there for healing measures, as well as some sentiments of wisdom and sagacity, Belial for moments in the sky, breaching proportions in his quiet grace that even Deimos couldn’t adequately tread. For now, paws unfurling as his hellhound endeavors again, the unicorn held onto his bag, and the peryton flew above, content to spring along the ethers of wind.
This was a different trek then he and Aisha had taken before, and the Sword lingered in the opportunity to stare, to wonder, to glance towards the rolling hills, some seeming natural, some mounds clearly covering something. At Noah’s inquiry, his ears swiveled back and forth, piercing eyes taking in the landscape, the potential. This was the world they’d been trying to reach so many seasons ago, embedded and coated in lightning, in fellow unicorn herds. We can try north, he indicated with a toss of his canine head, beginning to instigate motions in that direction.
DEIMOS
