DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Even as his attention deviated back and forth, from the moving, shirking, lurking shadow, and to the stranger, he ensured both were granted some due and interest. His brows furrowed for a moment, eyes narrowing once more, as the lurker in the distance seemed caught on the edge of one of the walls, and he could wait him out for a second.
Catching some proportions of things unsaid, his head tilted, vaguely feline and canine all at once. “Are you an Outlander?” And as for the glasses, gone and lost, that could be remedied quickly. Within a matter of moments, by creation magic eternally lingering in the rally of his flesh, bones, and blood, his palm turned over, revealing gilded factions and then an outline of the optical wares. A plain design, considering they needed to be functional. “See if these will work,” and he left them on the table for her to inspect.
The shadow scuttled further into the fold, and he nearly laughed, between the stupidity of the recruit and the inquiries of the woman. “Halo. Do you have lodgings yet?”
Catching some proportions of things unsaid, his head tilted, vaguely feline and canine all at once. “Are you an Outlander?” And as for the glasses, gone and lost, that could be remedied quickly. Within a matter of moments, by creation magic eternally lingering in the rally of his flesh, bones, and blood, his palm turned over, revealing gilded factions and then an outline of the optical wares. A plain design, considering they needed to be functional. “See if these will work,” and he left them on the table for her to inspect.
The shadow scuttled further into the fold, and he nearly laughed, between the stupidity of the recruit and the inquiries of the woman. “Halo. Do you have lodgings yet?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
