DEIMOS
Arms piled and laden with embered sticks and choked flames, the monolith hardly expected others to join, much less extend wicked grins and flirtacious mannerisms. A glance over his shoulder indicated the same ruffian and rogue who’d seared him with some sort of the same bravado before, when they’d been preparing the guild for LongNight, when they’d had etchings of hope amidst the camaraderie. With it stifled, buried, and completely vanquished, so was any of Deimos’ humor. His features were an exact replica of stone, unattainable, unreachable accord, eyes briefly narrowed, pondering the best course of action. In the end, he wouldn’t turn away assistance, and simply ignored anything else spewing from the stranger’s mouth. “Go ahead. Thank you.” He didn’t return the wink. Instead, he took great strides away and towards the wagon, dropping the amount within its sanction, and then eyeing the rest of the dwindling sticks, lumber, and everything else still slightly aflame. With a twist of his hand, he beckoned contortions of the fissures and flames back to his palms – part of them his, anointed and consecrated by his movements and motions, and they felt familiar in his wake once more. Then they were ultimately extinguished on a singular breath, inhales and exhales and despondent motions nestled in between, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes only flickering over the land on Oliver’s approach. Willing to help, and taking everything they could acquire, the beast nodded in reply, skull extended in the direction of the debris and garbage.
Kiada’s appearance was broached on a more even, exultant notion, thankfulness spread through their attuned bond, stare searching her reticence for something; pure speculation when there was only silence. So he left her to her own devices, all of them in some way or form brandished and bestial from the last withering days.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
