DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Chaos and ferocity, teeth and vengeance, his mind was a seething maelstrom of vitriol, vehemence, and violence, intending to rake just as much vendettas and rebuttal as he could. He wanted the other man, the other beast, to bleed, to fall apart, to be massacred on the forest floor, to be left for naught but the vultures and scavengers. Fueled and incensed by loss, by the ridiculous nature of their misadventures, by every other cataclysm rocking, ricocheting, over the stretch of abyss and voids, the Reaper came full circle, no noble Sword, but disastrous, pernicious heathen. Sunjata’s words were more of an echo. Do you regret any damage you inflict? His machinations curled to Hotaru, to the spite-laden wedding he never attended but heard well enough about, to the cannibal, to the damned end result of that hellhole excursion into caverns and towards dragons.
Pushing and shoving, Sunjata managed to escape beneath the slash of his paws, but not without some damage accomplished, the stretch, the reach of Deimos’ claws stinging, digging into his side. Not to be dismayed, not to be outdone, not to be waylaid in his rage, in his wrath, in his contempt, Deimos rampaged once more, racing forward, intending to use his mass, his bulk, to knock the panther down to the ground.
Jigano and Rance successfully drop off the pheasant – no harm, no fowl there. If they were intrigued by the pulse of Sunjata’s pain response, ordinarily they could easily go and follow the strangled ruminations – except a series of leaping, bounding deer would waylay their path, the herd from Sunjata and Deimos’ previous teamwork, rushing, surrounding, and bombarding their senses. Would they follow, give chase, or continue to seek out the panther and tiger?
And Oliver. Oh, Oliver. Out of the hole issue, and straight into another.
The pheasants were back.
The male was once again displeased, irate, and thoroughly unimpressed by the number of predators around his flock today, and immediately rushed out of the brush, intending to chase off the much larger cat.
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Deimos has done some damage to Sunjata, but Sunjata has successfully pushed him off. Deimos attempts to go and push Sunjata down.
Rance and Jigano have put their kill on the wagon, and come across the renegade deer herd!
Oliver, unfortunately, has met up with the pheasants. The male attempts to chase him off.
No post order!
Pushing and shoving, Sunjata managed to escape beneath the slash of his paws, but not without some damage accomplished, the stretch, the reach of Deimos’ claws stinging, digging into his side. Not to be dismayed, not to be outdone, not to be waylaid in his rage, in his wrath, in his contempt, Deimos rampaged once more, racing forward, intending to use his mass, his bulk, to knock the panther down to the ground.
Jigano and Rance successfully drop off the pheasant – no harm, no fowl there. If they were intrigued by the pulse of Sunjata’s pain response, ordinarily they could easily go and follow the strangled ruminations – except a series of leaping, bounding deer would waylay their path, the herd from Sunjata and Deimos’ previous teamwork, rushing, surrounding, and bombarding their senses. Would they follow, give chase, or continue to seek out the panther and tiger?
And Oliver. Oh, Oliver. Out of the hole issue, and straight into another.
The pheasants were back.
The male was once again displeased, irate, and thoroughly unimpressed by the number of predators around his flock today, and immediately rushed out of the brush, intending to chase off the much larger cat.
--
Deimos has done some damage to Sunjata, but Sunjata has successfully pushed him off. Deimos attempts to go and push Sunjata down.
No post order!
still standing
not because you can
but because you have to
