DEIMOS
Singing hadn’t been an anticipated venture to this sojourn – his eyes widened briefly as he listened to Amun begin his overtures, glancing quickly to Kiada in either exasperation or a fleeting sense of raw humor stifled almost immediately. But he didn’t growl or raise his hackles in protest of the bizarre merriment; but simply didn’t join in (somewher in the past had been drunken songs similar; boisterously proclaimed after little victories shared by brethren and comrades, all but gone out by the time they reached the end of their crusade). The Harpy’s mention of other things, like a sensation of motivation, of efforts, wasn’t unnoticed, and he nodded in assent. A glance upward informed him of Auni’s approach anyway, the lightest smile anointing his lips as the luxere galloped straight for him – hands ready and reaching to scratch antlers and ears when they weren’t full of wood or debris. Therafter though, there was more to do – he didn’t grab one of the shovels, and instead, applied himself back to lifting the heavier objects, muscles undulating, rippling, eager and content for the applied work and machinations. The beast toiled back and forth, from refuse and remains, to the wagon, intending to fill up the once-empty space and then burn it again elsewhere, ensure it was properly maintained, destroyed, or if some of the portions could be re-used, repurposed, for something else. On another interval, as he crouched and leaned down to inspect something off-color, off-shape, from the rest of the upheaval, he lifted patches of paper that somehow managed to make it through the evening, to discover objects familiar and grave.
Bones.
His brow furrowed, a heavy sigh filtering through his chest, pondering over which unfortunate friend, ally, or stranger still hadn’t found an adequate resting place. Roana? Cera? Caiside? Gently, he lifted the object out of the void, procuring and producing a lengthy piece of cloth between his hands, shaping it so it was slightly weighted, not fluttering off into the wind, before placing the pieces gently onto its sanction.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
