DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The temptation to unfurl another round of mischief was lost by the wake of their task. Or by the notions that his had been one of the better options, which meant the rest of the multitudes must’ve been dismal and poor indeed. Some manner of reticence settled along his features, and his eyes glanced over the rest of the lot, pondering the options.
While his strength could be utilized for the planks, or snagging rocks, it was the last one that segmented straight into his roles and responsibilities. “I can scout.” Mostly because he knew what could be found in there – and neither of the others needed to bear witness or be subjected to the potential desecration lingering within. He’d already been subjected to cannibal sacrileges; what was one more?
But he gave a shake of his head, pulling the fur lining of his coat over his nose, before heading in, Belial in close pursuit, Zuriel wisely staying out.
--
Deimos opts to scout.
While his strength could be utilized for the planks, or snagging rocks, it was the last one that segmented straight into his roles and responsibilities. “I can scout.” Mostly because he knew what could be found in there – and neither of the others needed to bear witness or be subjected to the potential desecration lingering within. He’d already been subjected to cannibal sacrileges; what was one more?
But he gave a shake of his head, pulling the fur lining of his coat over his nose, before heading in, Belial in close pursuit, Zuriel wisely staying out.
--
Deimos opts to scout.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
