Deimos
While the peryton flies around, amused at everything in life, the unicorn and man stood firm and tall, watching, waiting. He’d always understood restlessness, the ill at ease notions stirred beneath veins, the way movement and purpose alleviated the pooling of consternation and trepidation. He presumed something of that accord was happening here – that war touched others in different ways, that impending horrors, things never seen or experienced, could revolve and entangle in its own version of apprehension. Considering how many times his slumber had been disturbed by nightmares, trials, tribulations, or unending thoughts and pursuits, he could comprehend the notions of why without it having to be stated.
He offered one look to Zuriel before stepping closer, and then ceasing some yards away, allowing for space. The piercing depth of his eyes traced outlines of the snow, the boughs, the shards snagged into the fir, before rounding back to her. “Understandable.” A pause, mind calculating and altering into decisions, into things he’d offered before, to others close, and been mocked, ridiculed, or set aside, for the mere bestowal. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He offered one look to Zuriel before stepping closer, and then ceasing some yards away, allowing for space. The piercing depth of his eyes traced outlines of the snow, the boughs, the shards snagged into the fir, before rounding back to her. “Understandable.” A pause, mind calculating and altering into decisions, into things he’d offered before, to others close, and been mocked, ridiculed, or set aside, for the mere bestowal. “Do you want to talk about it?”
you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight
all venom and fistfight
