creatures of contradictions

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Green was not a common color along Halo’s wild expanses. Besides the fir and pine, Deimos had always known it to be amidst stark ivory and desolate plains of white – alabaster fixations swept upon frigid winds and glacial wakes. The field before them was something to cherish and behold, for everything it represented and could be: a babbling stream, fins of fish, stalks of verdantry rising towards the sky, as if it had never heard of being barren. Zuriel’s long strides followed close behind his own, while Belial soared overhead, wisely keeping quiet as they searched and explored. He glanced back to his traveling companions, eyes very carefully searching Ru for the thousandth time and likely for a myriad of unspoken reasons, then over to Talyson briefly, minutely, before carrying on their previous conversation about newfound foxes. “Supposedly they make sounds like ice cracking,” and he shrugged his shoulders, yet to see or hear the phenomenon for himself. “They should not be able to blend in so easily here.” So hopefully they’d be able to spot something quickly, efficiently, and utilize the information for the guild. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace