who we are and all that we're trying to be
With acceptance of the construction, the Sword finished off the parameters and particulars, etching some musical notes in the back, recalling, remembering, every damned tune Amun had managed to muster on every occasion. He stepped back as Amun roamed closer to examine and scrutinize the wares; but Deimos’ construction was rarely flinty, delicate, or feeble – usually meticulous, scrupulous, and detailed, well-acquainted and anointed with completed, strong, sturdy productions. Thereafter, upon its granted, accepted inspection, he nodded, confirmation of a job completed. “You are welcome,” short, simple, to the point, nothing else required. He turned to leave, except the potter was now leaning along the newly-established kiln, too much mischief on his face; Deimos’ eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious. “There is no need.” The suggestive brow movements alone put him off for staying any longer than necessary; devilry and amusements amongst friends and family were welcomed, but Amun wasn’t amidst those configurations. With that, he motioned towards the door, another hastened nod granted and anointed, intending departure.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
