the rest will fall in line

DEIMOS Delivered from the blasts If she thought she’d be free of him and his insistence, she was unfortunately wrong: the scholar interludes were fully engaged and incensed, the manipulative quandaries and quagmires kindled, and the spirit of his restless, savage intricacies curled and coiled within, menacing and ferocious. The beast inclined his head but never turned away, bolder and bolder still, a predator stalking, a voracious, avaricious wolf just entangling his claws into flesh and bone; she gave no response to what she required, but he’d give his notice. I don’t fully know…just a seamstress, and there was a moment or two when rage threatened to engulf and contort over his features, a mighty crescendo of rime and destruction, done with the mess, clenching his jaw, struggling to pick between destruction and composure. Restraint won over in the end, but just barely, digging his nails into his palms so he didn’t chance the notion of reaching out and throttling her; the last figures of her statement making his eyes widen, then narrow. They’re going to be food. “For what?” The growl was back in full throttle, a deep rumble, a minatory ricochet. Was there a monster lurking in the woods, encircling this so-called pit, biding its time, until they were swallowed and consumed, one by one? How many hours did they have left until it scraped away at their bones and tore them all apart? Could he defeat it, if he needed to? Could any of them? Or was it some inevitable folly, a working of some specious gods, and they’d be doomed from the start? The world hadn’t considered him yet – but it would soon learn he was an unrelenting force, a resolute foe. the last of a line of lasts