DEIMOS
He watched and waited, mountain and iron, monolith and Colossus, neither swayed by the branches and boughs, by the waving grasses, by the fronds straining closer; but by the abyss, by the stranglehold grief had upon him. Nonchalance and reticence was an eternal, careful veneer, a pretense worn by his features, a mask to hide the misery. A joke, perhaps, when it was clear from the way he moved, from the way he stood, that he was chained and tethered to the despondency, to the trepidation shackling, closing, over marrow and ichor, flesh and bone, reaching for something never to rise again.
The Sword scanned, predacious, rapacious scrutiny far too embedded in his existence to ever leave, no matter the rancorous entanglements contorting along his brow. Eventually, beyond the streamline of birds shifting in the sky, beyond clouds drifting overhead, there were figures, and he searched for the one most familiar. The beast ignored the apprehensive pounding of his heart, advancing from the wooded thickets, straying from the glade, until a lone individual came racing towards him. A sigh of relief bounded and ricocheted through his lungs, because at least through all the potential turmoil, she was safe. After everything they’d been through this season, those ruminations were enough in this moment, in this instant.
On natural instinct, he opened up his arms, withstood her crash, sweeping her up against his chest – protective and guarding and shielding. Strong, stalwart, steadfast, yearning to ensure something in his grasp was secure, his arms equally wrapped around her lithe figure. Maybe she wouldn’t notice if he held her a little tighter. Intending to be somewhat obnoxious, a callback to days upon days of times not so damned, not so harsh, he blatantly placed his entire head on top of hers. A reverberation, a rumble, crooned and beckoned, longing to ensure sanctity, sanctums, before everything else flickered and fell apart. “You all right?”
The Sword scanned, predacious, rapacious scrutiny far too embedded in his existence to ever leave, no matter the rancorous entanglements contorting along his brow. Eventually, beyond the streamline of birds shifting in the sky, beyond clouds drifting overhead, there were figures, and he searched for the one most familiar. The beast ignored the apprehensive pounding of his heart, advancing from the wooded thickets, straying from the glade, until a lone individual came racing towards him. A sigh of relief bounded and ricocheted through his lungs, because at least through all the potential turmoil, she was safe. After everything they’d been through this season, those ruminations were enough in this moment, in this instant.
On natural instinct, he opened up his arms, withstood her crash, sweeping her up against his chest – protective and guarding and shielding. Strong, stalwart, steadfast, yearning to ensure something in his grasp was secure, his arms equally wrapped around her lithe figure. Maybe she wouldn’t notice if he held her a little tighter. Intending to be somewhat obnoxious, a callback to days upon days of times not so damned, not so harsh, he blatantly placed his entire head on top of hers. A reverberation, a rumble, crooned and beckoned, longing to ensure sanctity, sanctums, before everything else flickered and fell apart. “You all right?”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
