this is the reckoning
Restlessness carved its wake into his bones in such easy parallels that it didn’t take long for him to linger amidst the Tundra. With companions tucked close behind, they were a trio of maneuvering forms against the ivory isolation, plumes of breath spiraling from unicorn nares and peryton wiles and a silent Sword’s contemplation. He thought about tracking deer, about following the lines of trails that led to the Fangs, about meandering closer to the ocean and pondering the volcanic ridges left behind.
Instead though, they turned towards the outskirts of the Citadel walls, along the morning’s sunshine traipse, checking over the recent repairs, inspecting the gates, before ultimately wandering out further and further, until there was naught but the abyss and temptation to run, to unleash, to unravel.
So then the Sword became the hellhound, and Zuriel’s hoofbeats rang crescendos along his ears, and Belial’s wild hoots were chasing clouds and pockets of snow.
Instead though, they turned towards the outskirts of the Citadel walls, along the morning’s sunshine traipse, checking over the recent repairs, inspecting the gates, before ultimately wandering out further and further, until there was naught but the abyss and temptation to run, to unleash, to unravel.
So then the Sword became the hellhound, and Zuriel’s hoofbeats rang crescendos along his ears, and Belial’s wild hoots were chasing clouds and pockets of snow.
DEIMOS
