Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
Imagining a world not inhabited by monsters, by beasts, by shards of treachery and danger at every unknown turn seemed wildly implausible or impossible, simply based on his own experiences. They always managed to find themselves sequestered into some sort of event marking hazards and still venturing forth, with or without pertinent information. A land designated and reserved for their brand of foolishness and ignorance was unfortunately a lost cause. It did prompt a laugh though, a quiet rumble in his chest, a dimple to his smile. “No. We would not have a clue.” What would he even do during repose, or peace? Perhaps it was unfortunate that question even reigned along his head, ill-used to doing anything without a form of trauma, devastation, or foreboding behind it.
The exceptions being the next alterations in subject.
While her fiery fledgling meandered away, the elemental war of his formed dragons seemed to cease, tire, and desist too, intentionally making them slow down, as if the battle had worn both to infinite exhaustion, spiraling, circling overhead, locked in a quiet, searing rage, but conforming to their fatigue. He wasn’t weary or lagging, which was intriguing too, because there’d been times, like in the Spire, where his energy peaked and exhaustion toiled away to the back of skull, leeched into his bones.
Her question caused another chuckle, lighter and lighter as the dragons drifted downward, hovering over the oasis once more. “Perhaps,” cheeky, a wrinkle to his nose as he stared out over the water. In that vein though, he could extend an invitation – considering Weaver a friend. “Amalia and I are getting married before the end of Leafchange. You are welcome to attend the reception.”
The exceptions being the next alterations in subject.
While her fiery fledgling meandered away, the elemental war of his formed dragons seemed to cease, tire, and desist too, intentionally making them slow down, as if the battle had worn both to infinite exhaustion, spiraling, circling overhead, locked in a quiet, searing rage, but conforming to their fatigue. He wasn’t weary or lagging, which was intriguing too, because there’d been times, like in the Spire, where his energy peaked and exhaustion toiled away to the back of skull, leeched into his bones.
Her question caused another chuckle, lighter and lighter as the dragons drifted downward, hovering over the oasis once more. “Perhaps,” cheeky, a wrinkle to his nose as he stared out over the water. In that vein though, he could extend an invitation – considering Weaver a friend. “Amalia and I are getting married before the end of Leafchange. You are welcome to attend the reception.”
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
