wild and bereft

DEIMOS MASTER OF NOTHING PLACE He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to listen to the strains of silence as their thoughts, their schemes, went unanswered. He didn’t want the eventuality, the eerie vitriol of them being unworthy screeching in their ears. He didn’t want Rexanna to think she was utterly abandoned, desolate, forlorn, left by the wayside by her deities, when it was him consigned to the fiendish, heathen stretches. He didn’t want to be less once more. The warrior had long since accepted it, but having the notion shoved in his face consistently was overbearing, monotonous, tedious; not while he strived to do something other than wallow and wander in the shadows. She ascertained there was no other way, and he had half a mind to grumble and growl at the uselessness of this world, with its secrets and mysteries, with its upheaval and absurd inabilities to listen. The only thing he could do, thoroughly snagged and snarled at her motions, was serve an ominous warning. “They have never answered me before.” Then she grabbed hold of his hand, and like some peevish, bad-tempered mule he yearned to launch, leap, and snatch away; maybe they could go to the library and dig further (but no one had found anything, and he wasn’t a special scholar, destined to journey into the farthest, darkest reaches to discover the long-lost tome), maybe they could ask a few more Naturals willing to talk with them, maybe they could give up entirely and simply wait for the world to burn. But they couldn’t leave it like that – the final option was just as daunting as the one he currently faced. Please try had been the whisper in the back of his mind, the drone, the hum in his dreams, the siren call in his soul; and on a guttural growl, a deep, heaving sigh, he allowed himself to be led to a shrine’s confines. OF RECOIL AND GRACE

Rexanna <3