they found your bones

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Zuriel tucked her muzzle against his shoulder, and he stayed very still, very quiet, in the midst of their shared vexations and anguish. He strived to keep his low, tucked deep into his chest, not to spill out over, away, away, away, after deluges and doldrums. His hands reached for the unicorn, sighing, contemplating, driving over all the other nuances and disturbances. Only as Noah struggled to discern just what he needed to do, did his eyes slide back to the hunter, yearning for silence and knowing he couldn’t stay that way. I know. They’d already seen some lengths Morgan would go to – and despite the words she’d laced within the Citadel while her allies lanced, the measures had all been there. Layered in hypocrisy, in multitudes of vehement endeavors they’d never shown to her. He'd experienced the horrific designations of the Voice. Enough was enough. Perhaps it was time for different tactics. His gaze went back down to the forest floor, some restless proportion of him craving to move, to escape, to evade, while the other portions sat in the vivid stupor. Frey or Juniper first. He certainly wouldn’t be marching to Safrin: not after this debacle. Other methods would have to be discerned and yielded well before he bowed his head before stars again; a promise fulfilled once more. Give me some time, and we can try to gather everyone back together. And then maneuver, move, forward, somehow, some way. He didn’t want to think of the alternative. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace