Deimos
The silent comradery remained, and he only pulled away slightly to instill his own measures at the base of the shrine, amidst and amongst the finery of glassy baubles and warm plumes of breath curling and coiling. There was no need to pull offerings from his pockets when they could be readily made – conforming from his hands within a matter of moments – a vase to match the veneered fixtures, and similar stems, flowers, attached to them. But where there would normally be petals sequestered stars and cosmos inflections. Crouching slightly to place them along the pedestals, he inclined his head, still giving Evie his full attention, not yet partaking in silent prayers to the goddess. “I have not seen one myself, but there are some things in the journals. In the Feverlands, I believe,” eyes tilting upward, mind going through fragments and pages of the books. “They live in shells from skulls, so their size has a range. Eight razor-sharp legs.” Because rarely was anything peaceful in Caido.
Another notion stirred at him, and he plunged his head downward, lost in thought for a moment, while his hands restlessly poked at the ornamental décor. “I heard Cordelia will be stepping down as Warden.” The General might have tried to lose the heavy sigh amidst his chest, but it still betrayed him in the midst of the breath circling around him in the frigid air.
Another notion stirred at him, and he plunged his head downward, lost in thought for a moment, while his hands restlessly poked at the ornamental décor. “I heard Cordelia will be stepping down as Warden.” The General might have tried to lose the heavy sigh amidst his chest, but it still betrayed him in the midst of the breath circling around him in the frigid air.
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
