DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The Sword wasn’t a soul enamored with ignorance; but with his new methods, new shifts, new everything contained within his entity, the brutal unfamiliarity struck at him in a continual cycle. His brows furrowed, somehow at a loss, having seen Amalia orchestrate the same things time and time again, pieces and pockets of fur, of feathers, while still remaining human, and he’d never put much thought into them. He’d considered them Attuned reaches, gifts of alterations and morphing properties, something granted and given and a customary portion to their daily lives. He hadn’t questioned their existence or how they maintained them – so he remained hopelessly lost in the rings of laughter (which almost made him shy away from it at all; had Kiada not insinuated a compliment somewhere in the ether – realizing it was acceptance again amidst the chuckles). His eyes watched and caught as the Harpy joined in, and together they were all human and animal alike; bizarre and strange and just, he supposed. “What causes-,” the beast began, the curiosity and intrigue getting the better of him, until Amalia moved away.Then his tiger ears were absent of the baker’s hands, and he lifted his head upright again, furrowing his brow to catch whatever conflagration came next, the necklace still in his hands as she pulled back to sit down, to reel away from the nuances. The General gently placed the chains and its baubles, its charms, its keepsakes, along the counter, pausing, waiting, the uncertainty still springing along his presence. “You are welcome,” he shrugged and insisted, even if he wasn’t sure he’d meant to draw out the plains of amusement in such a way; a less purposeful intonation, but still there, a residual effect of their attempts. Perhaps that was simply enough.
Unite and spread the heart apart
