DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Perhaps the same could be said for Deimos’ expectations of Loren, his eyes flickering briefly at the sight of the summoner and his collection of children’s clothing and toys. He wisely said nothing, especially as one of the strays managed to clamber along his shoulders, rising from his crouch very carefully, parting away from the collection, aside from the one who’d made itself at home. As for a word, in private, could mean a variety of things, and he nodded, following along, away from the crowd.In another world, they might have all gathered within a furtive tent, created and concocted to allow a sound to permeate from its ether.
Here, they weren’t so lucky.
“What is going on?” a rumbling utterance, spine straight, taut, and rigid, expecting something to unravel, to unwind, to unleash, some other storm and tempest rising over the promises, the convictions, of spring. His jaw clenched, tightened, briefly, skull spinning with all the possibilities and parameters.
At the mention of the cats, however, he only arched his brow, shrugged; the cat remaining on his shoulders shifting abruptly with the movement. “It might be an effect of becoming attuned.” He really didn’t know – the summoning, the compelling, had never been fully explained to him.
Unite and spread the heart apart
