Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
His hands didn’t shake but the palpable relief in his veins kept persisting, kept pleading, kept pervading, gingerly, carefully, taking hold of the herb between his fingers and putting it down gently on the ground. The fiend removed the bag from his shoulders, grabbing hold of one of the jars he’d concocted and created for these purposes, removing the lid, and placing the plant inside. When it was within, and the cap placed back on, the strange semblance of accomplishment returned, swallowing away some of the weight along his shoulders. “Just one,” he noted, placing it back into his sack, ensuring it was well padded and surrounded by other things lined in its sanction. Only then did his eyes lift slightly back to the other man, a requirement of expressing his gratitude, acknowledgment in the hunt, despite all the other nuances, notions, and irritations sinking, spiraling, into his core. “Thank you for the help.” Because he likely wouldn’t have reached this point without his assistance – and Deimos wasn’t so rash or ridiculous to not recognize that. “You might take one or two for yourself.” A shrug, but if they’d made it this far, and the herb was useful for healing, mending, and soothing, it could only benefit.
DEIMOS
