DEIMOS
Deimos could understand exhaustion, fatigue, the wear and tear of muscles undulating beneath plumes and heartbeats; maybe he wanted it to end too, so much easier, so much simpler, to descend on broken wings and anguished edges. Then he could crash and burn in the waves, and no one would care, no one would think otherwise, finally succumbed and sunk. Swords gone and erased again.
But still he glided and hovered, flying on unwavering boundaries and filaments until the world would grow dark and gray – twisting over dunes, over gathered armaments below. The piercing depths of his eyes, still cold, still blue, still matching ocean reflections, caught a familiar shape – a damned goose, way out amongst the waves. Which meant –
His name was scrawled along the edges of his mind, the voice always the same in its inflections. Perhaps they were both that way now – barely getting by, drifting along fringes until something else collapsed and destroyed. Loren, an address in his own stoic qualities and tone, a rumble, a monolith waiting to fall into the sea. He hadn’t seen the man since the fateful luxere incident, flames and death (always; for an eternity, it followed and hounded). He didn’t ask how he was, because there was no way the other beast was fine. There was no sense in pretending. How is your new position? floated along instead, tracing over currents and waves.
But still he glided and hovered, flying on unwavering boundaries and filaments until the world would grow dark and gray – twisting over dunes, over gathered armaments below. The piercing depths of his eyes, still cold, still blue, still matching ocean reflections, caught a familiar shape – a damned goose, way out amongst the waves. Which meant –
His name was scrawled along the edges of his mind, the voice always the same in its inflections. Perhaps they were both that way now – barely getting by, drifting along fringes until something else collapsed and destroyed. Loren, an address in his own stoic qualities and tone, a rumble, a monolith waiting to fall into the sea. He hadn’t seen the man since the fateful luxere incident, flames and death (always; for an eternity, it followed and hounded). He didn’t ask how he was, because there was no way the other beast was fine. There was no sense in pretending. How is your new position? floated along instead, tracing over currents and waves.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
