all rivers flow to the sea

DEIMOS

Deimos hadn’t spent his formative years beside the sea for any lack of skill in the swimming department; and he snorted inwardly, enough for her to hear via the attuned bombardments. He continued along with ease, though lacking in the quicker bursts, muscles pummeling and pushing through the lingering currents with repose and tranquility, completely at home in the fathoms and depths – an ocean was an ocean, no matter which world it belonged to. The pace is fine, arching a brow, before continuing along the efforts – watching as the city and all its expanse widened, stretching outwards, silhouettes against the fathoms’ sand.

Guards weren’t unexpected, though his scrutinizing perusal was evident too – warrior to warrior, soldier to soldier, suddenly aching for days where he did much of the same. Tucking the emotions away, he only enveloped the reverberations with his semblance of inquiry, nodding respectfully to the sterner individual, eyes carefully not glancing at fishtails, but at the weapon. He could probably make the same in quick, swift manners, in the keen regard of his incantations. Instead though, the deep rumble of his voice resounded outward, back into the bond formations. Merely curious, and nothing more. He smiled, affable and amiable. If I am bothering you, I can leave. The same offer he’d given to Chrysaora, though she’d rebuffed it instantly. He wasn’t too certain about this one.

who we were before bones, before dirt, before even light
we have always been deep, restless souls