the hunter and the hunter

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

Whatever apprehension curled around him seemed to fade away when Juniper’s swiftness and his incantations went to work. Strength pooled and unfurled around the tendrils, and between his efforts and the Fae’s quick motions, the bobcat was freed. He permitted one snort as he released the Wicker Woman back to its preferred haunt, glancing downwards at the bobcat and diplomat. “Went rather well,” and if there was surprise in his voice, he made sure to alter his features into the lightest of smirks, affording levels of trust in one another and their abilities – gesturing towards Juniper’s arm in turn. “Zuriel can heal that, if you want.” There was a temptation to do the same for the cat; but then realizing it would just make the ordeal that much more difficult, the feline could be mended elsewhere.

With the actions done and conducted, his eyes looked upward, towards the horizon, canopies, and treeline. “Was there anything else you needed?” The task complete – done, measured, and orchestrated?

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead