Deimos
“It is difficult to know how we are going to fight this war,” he mentioned, not by the way of a shrug, but in the hazardous wake of the rampant, rapidly approaching, unknown. Deimos could recount how they fought and forged along Helovia and Isilme, but he wouldn’t ever presume it was how things would disassemble here. “I would like to add some more defensive means around the Citadel,” including reinforcing the walls once more, adding arsenals and armaments to the pending watchtower, and further preparation to the soldiers, warriors, and citizens alike.
One would hope Halo wouldn’t even be in their wake – but he never amounted much to such an emotion.
Placing logs along more steps or porches, dragging the sled along, he processed the manners in which the world was due and damned to alter, to change. “Maybe we will feel better when the pillar is finished.” And the skyport, and any potential machinations from those notions.
One would hope Halo wouldn’t even be in their wake – but he never amounted much to such an emotion.
Placing logs along more steps or porches, dragging the sled along, he processed the manners in which the world was due and damned to alter, to change. “Maybe we will feel better when the pillar is finished.” And the skyport, and any potential machinations from those notions.
we exhume our enemy's bones
we are battling, hungry beasts
we are battling, hungry beasts
