DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Belial, ever watchful, raised his head at Aidon’s appearance with almost a gleeful swing – though Deimos could feel the low hum of something more than bemusement. Arrogance? Conceit? Goading? A warning was sent well before he could catch Maeve’s appearance, so the peryton didn’t do much more than raise his hackles to reveal fangs – unfurling his wings, and wandering back and forth along the edge again. A predator’s pace.
Drawing his attention away from the dragon, and intending to return to the sign, the sovereign’s voice cut through the machinations before he could lift the brush. His brows furrowed momentarily, uncertain what she meant, a wrinkle to his nose only increasing the amount of paint there. “Hazard of the job,” he shrugged, sweeping another layer of the ivory across the timber. Unbothered, and unaware, of anything speckled across his nose, the calculations started again – pondering over her purpose here. “What brings you this way?” Was she checking up on the state of the building? It’d long since been repaired – nothing set ablaze, and he’d been on relatively decent behavior lately.
Drawing his attention away from the dragon, and intending to return to the sign, the sovereign’s voice cut through the machinations before he could lift the brush. His brows furrowed momentarily, uncertain what she meant, a wrinkle to his nose only increasing the amount of paint there. “Hazard of the job,” he shrugged, sweeping another layer of the ivory across the timber. Unbothered, and unaware, of anything speckled across his nose, the calculations started again – pondering over her purpose here. “What brings you this way?” Was she checking up on the state of the building? It’d long since been repaired – nothing set ablaze, and he’d been on relatively decent behavior lately.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
