DEIMOS
The fervency behind him was electric, singeing, a smoldering descent ensuring his fortitude and might in the pursuit of the bottom half of his house; her taunting, her challenge emboldening his persistence. By the time they both swiftly encountered the floor, it was still all in gestures of play, in audacious fortune, in content upheaval – the kind that settled deep into his chest, into his heart, instead of sparking darker, treacherous canals and fissures of revolution. He arched his brow, snorting at her latest scorn, though it was light and airy, no harm, no foul. The beast meandered to the kitchen, rustling through egg cartons and portions of bread. “You had your time,” her claims, her champion feats amongst the Attuned ramparts; he insisted with the slightest of shrugs, a shake of his head. It was all very childish and he didn’t really care, drawn and driven to juvenile, mischievous tactics when he was content, when he was happy (events marked and chiseled down due to their rarity). But he will never be better than her in shifted forms – she must know that – so the diverting fray was really just for amusing purposes. While he laughed, a boyish, coursing chuckle, he also found preserved portions of bacon, leftover on the off chance they might have an opportunity to relish it before LongNight’s expanse, grabbing hold of a pan and settling the strands over the stove, waiting for them to sizzle and cook.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
