this is the reckoning
He ran.
Wild and untamed and free for a sparse few seconds – out of human form, out of plotting, out of control and composure, out of wondering and pondering and scraping away at whatever denizens he could snag and ensnare. Liberation, freedom, deliverance in the wicked ease of his long limbs, in the rise and fall of elongated strides, in the tempestuous fringes and boundaries he so easily pushed against.
Fire flicked from his paws and pooled into the melting snow – little bits of steam and warmth rising off along plumes in the early morning light, giving way only slightly. The imprints, massive and large, remained in the gradients of memory snow, meant to stick and seethe there for far longer than he’d thought for or intended. Pathways of where he’d traveled and traversed; either as a warning or beckoning. Most would commit to the former.
But still he rampaged, amused, the Attuned adornments settling through, unbothered to cease and stop them. The Sword launched over a few snowdrifts, perhaps landmarks of the barrows buried underneath, before barreling onward, a Stygian outlier against the ivory canvas.
Wild and untamed and free for a sparse few seconds – out of human form, out of plotting, out of control and composure, out of wondering and pondering and scraping away at whatever denizens he could snag and ensnare. Liberation, freedom, deliverance in the wicked ease of his long limbs, in the rise and fall of elongated strides, in the tempestuous fringes and boundaries he so easily pushed against.
Fire flicked from his paws and pooled into the melting snow – little bits of steam and warmth rising off along plumes in the early morning light, giving way only slightly. The imprints, massive and large, remained in the gradients of memory snow, meant to stick and seethe there for far longer than he’d thought for or intended. Pathways of where he’d traveled and traversed; either as a warning or beckoning. Most would commit to the former.
But still he rampaged, amused, the Attuned adornments settling through, unbothered to cease and stop them. The Sword launched over a few snowdrifts, perhaps landmarks of the barrows buried underneath, before barreling onward, a Stygian outlier against the ivory canvas.
DEIMOS
