Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
A snicker unfurled on the edges of his lips, not for long, but there enough to be present and visible at her first statement. He shifted the monsters and their demonic intervals into mere undulations of embers and cinders, coiling and uncoiling, winding and unwinding, twists and turns in his distracted bemusements. “Perhaps,” considering the earth he’d practiced, utilized, and scrapped together, striving to make it more than just moving pebbles around soil and loam. The musing lingered for a while in his stead, pondering how often he’d discovered something merely based on threats, on the necessity of the moment – like water, attempting to catch moonlight fractures in a jar.
He waited for the repercussions and lecture of their botched cave adventures, pondering if he could amount that to all of their faults, or merely their leader. “Very true,” the beast conceded instead, his eyes not leaving the whims of the conflagration over water. “I have been told we Outlanders cannot help ourselves.” Meant to be a joke, but etched and sketched in veracity too – emboldened by things they thought they knew and perceived, launching into cycles and systems of ignorance. A majority of them had done far better lately, adhering, assimilating into the roles and turns of the Grounds, but elsewhere? The same mistakes bit and tore, and unfortunately, lives had been lost on those ventures too. A severe learning curve; like LongNights, like disaster after disaster, and he nodded at her grin, the smirk long since disappeared.
Weaver’s own trials didn’t seem to be quite so looming and large – the realistic side to him almost said just wait - but perhaps Weaver was far more clever than the lot of them, capable of resisting the urge to charge into assistance and accidents. His head tilted, only a single syllable to encourage her venting if need be. “Oh?” He’d always been one to listen instead of express much of anything, but he didn’t lack sibling interactions, considering the multitude of his forged-by-bond family were much like sisters.
He waited for the repercussions and lecture of their botched cave adventures, pondering if he could amount that to all of their faults, or merely their leader. “Very true,” the beast conceded instead, his eyes not leaving the whims of the conflagration over water. “I have been told we Outlanders cannot help ourselves.” Meant to be a joke, but etched and sketched in veracity too – emboldened by things they thought they knew and perceived, launching into cycles and systems of ignorance. A majority of them had done far better lately, adhering, assimilating into the roles and turns of the Grounds, but elsewhere? The same mistakes bit and tore, and unfortunately, lives had been lost on those ventures too. A severe learning curve; like LongNights, like disaster after disaster, and he nodded at her grin, the smirk long since disappeared.
Weaver’s own trials didn’t seem to be quite so looming and large – the realistic side to him almost said just wait - but perhaps Weaver was far more clever than the lot of them, capable of resisting the urge to charge into assistance and accidents. His head tilted, only a single syllable to encourage her venting if need be. “Oh?” He’d always been one to listen instead of express much of anything, but he didn’t lack sibling interactions, considering the multitude of his forged-by-bond family were much like sisters.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
