DEIMOS
The voice, familiar, rankled along Attuned measures for an instant, causing his head to snap upwards, gazing over at the hawk form looming nearby. Remi? He could be entirely wrong – he supposed – he had been before. Others could be the same animal. Ascended could have snagged the figure of the flying predator. Maybe someone had a similar pitch in their vocals.
He hadn’t answered the question yet though, and the uncertainty weighed through his frame. Eventually though, he continued the downward spiral, taking care in the distance, eternally cautious. It is Deimos. Waiting for a particular reaction – the Sword expected anywhere from residual frustration, neutrality, or ire, his wings extended, catching a thermal on the outskirts. What to do next would be gauged and waged based on the others’ behavior. No. Not yet. Maeve said something about a well.
He hadn’t answered the question yet though, and the uncertainty weighed through his frame. Eventually though, he continued the downward spiral, taking care in the distance, eternally cautious. It is Deimos. Waiting for a particular reaction – the Sword expected anywhere from residual frustration, neutrality, or ire, his wings extended, catching a thermal on the outskirts. What to do next would be gauged and waged based on the others’ behavior. No. Not yet. Maeve said something about a well.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
