DEIMOS
Fault lines and fissures again; mistakes in their haphazard displays. This hadn’t been about harming, about destroying, about reaching pinnacles of damage and bombardment. There’d been other days, other hours for that, and while he usually blistered into that accord with little prompting, Deimos also had the wherewithal of control and composure, a fluid, formulated bout of calculations kindled and formed in his mind.
Except Jigano wasn’t making it easy.
Right beneath him – if talons were to stretch too far, reach out significantly, or if he simply continued to fall, they’d crash and inevitably burn. On an harsh intake of breath, he strived to cease the level and plummeting motions of his descent, curling it off to the right side of the raven – uncertain if he’d tucked his talons enough, if they’d snag at either feathers or suns, if his attempts even mattered, if his speed and attempts had been enough to keep them completely out of harm’s way.
Except Jigano wasn’t making it easy.
Right beneath him – if talons were to stretch too far, reach out significantly, or if he simply continued to fall, they’d crash and inevitably burn. On an harsh intake of breath, he strived to cease the level and plummeting motions of his descent, curling it off to the right side of the raven – uncertain if he’d tucked his talons enough, if they’d snag at either feathers or suns, if his attempts even mattered, if his speed and attempts had been enough to keep them completely out of harm’s way.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
