Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
Deimos stared at the summoner, who’d seemingly altered into a completely different being since he’d banged his skull against the ground. Concussed? It’d been something experienced on the battlefield by other members of the army, white tents lined up against outstretched dais’ of war, but never for long, since the confusion, alterations, and befuddlement usually led to an untimely death at an adversary’s hand. At the very least, he wasn’t in danger here, surrounded by either ally, comrade, and animals, and the situation could be reversed, not left to his own devices across scattered remnants of discarded foes or enemies. The companion’s anxiety and apprehension were just one more figment and fragment to slide into place, and though he listened to the incoherent babble and laughter, his decision had already been made. It only took a nod of his head, his wounds and burns already tended to by Zuriel’s measures, and the unicorn meandered slowly to the captain; Deimos crouching down as if at an inspection, missing the high five approach entirely. The beast might’ve loosened a snort or two at the last question, shaking his skull, while Zuriel tended to Loren, the glow of her horn radiating, pulsing, pervading, an assuaging overture of silence.
DEIMOS
