DEIMOS
He missed the grin.
But not the discourse that followed, tilting his head to listen, maneuvering away from puddles, stranded somewhere between grove, leaning boughs, and brambles. The fathoms of his gaze settled back on the man, brow arched again, because he wasn’t certain what we being asked of him – or if it was just scholarly attributes, the way Jigano voiced his evidence, thoughts, and theories out loud. His eyes narrowed again, considering, contemplating. “Test out?” A pause, pondering if he too was being examined and assessed. “Do you want me to attack you?” Something else? Or just a notion, prompted and voiced, given naught else but air and wind?
Zuriel arched her brow too – and in the right light, both warrior and unicorn might’ve been reflections of one another.
Loren’s capabilities were on a range, but being capable of orchestrating, beckoning, any kind of animal, either real or imagined (and when did it end – those spiraling hallucinations and chimeras?) would’ve had its merits. Another Spark Bird for a time, mentioned at the meeting, would be ultimately beneficial, hopefully keeping the monsters of Long Night at bay. Could he assemble dragons at his request, at his command, demand their fiery intonations upon enemies? Could he drag hellhounds from the underworld, to howl and growl at his side, unleash his dogs of war upon adversaries? Or were there other, more merit-worthy inclusions? Loren didn’t seem the type to render immediately to treachery and demolition (unlike Deimos, baptized and reborn in fire, in vehemence, in violence, the basking sway of war with blades suddenly struck into sides). “Admirable.” He shrugged again, allowing the smallest of smiles – recalling stories and legends, myths of grand sea monsters along their tide homelands. “How long do they stay?” Were they corporeal, tangible things, or wisps of dust and wind, structured to be fleeting?
But not the discourse that followed, tilting his head to listen, maneuvering away from puddles, stranded somewhere between grove, leaning boughs, and brambles. The fathoms of his gaze settled back on the man, brow arched again, because he wasn’t certain what we being asked of him – or if it was just scholarly attributes, the way Jigano voiced his evidence, thoughts, and theories out loud. His eyes narrowed again, considering, contemplating. “Test out?” A pause, pondering if he too was being examined and assessed. “Do you want me to attack you?” Something else? Or just a notion, prompted and voiced, given naught else but air and wind?
Zuriel arched her brow too – and in the right light, both warrior and unicorn might’ve been reflections of one another.
Loren’s capabilities were on a range, but being capable of orchestrating, beckoning, any kind of animal, either real or imagined (and when did it end – those spiraling hallucinations and chimeras?) would’ve had its merits. Another Spark Bird for a time, mentioned at the meeting, would be ultimately beneficial, hopefully keeping the monsters of Long Night at bay. Could he assemble dragons at his request, at his command, demand their fiery intonations upon enemies? Could he drag hellhounds from the underworld, to howl and growl at his side, unleash his dogs of war upon adversaries? Or were there other, more merit-worthy inclusions? Loren didn’t seem the type to render immediately to treachery and demolition (unlike Deimos, baptized and reborn in fire, in vehemence, in violence, the basking sway of war with blades suddenly struck into sides). “Admirable.” He shrugged again, allowing the smallest of smiles – recalling stories and legends, myths of grand sea monsters along their tide homelands. “How long do they stay?” Were they corporeal, tangible things, or wisps of dust and wind, structured to be fleeting?
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
