my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Amun roused himself, slightly, a bit of life and light and mischief coming back to his eyes. Grinning faintly at Deimos, the potter lifted his injured hand. ”Huh. Neat. Artificial how? What is it made of, exactly, and how does it work?” The questions sounded surprisingly like idle conversation, but his eyes bore into the General's features.
As the other man took the Ascended's right arm, he shrugged, then nodded. "Yup. Chop away. Sooner done, sooner I get out of your long hair." Zuriel might've thought herself hidden, but the darkness held no secrets from Amun. His eyes sought her out, and he gave her a cautious nod. Then his gaze swept across the garden, looking anywhere but at Deimos.
Or at the potter's soon to be detached hand.
As the other man took the Ascended's right arm, he shrugged, then nodded. "Yup. Chop away. Sooner done, sooner I get out of your long hair." Zuriel might've thought herself hidden, but the darkness held no secrets from Amun. His eyes sought her out, and he gave her a cautious nod. Then his gaze swept across the garden, looking anywhere but at Deimos.
Or at the potter's soon to be detached hand.
by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real
AMUN
