who we are and all that we're trying to be
Acts of comprehension seemed to emerge, and the hound was a study in meticulous scrutiny, the barest tilt of his head coming to understand the proceedings. The stranger didn’t leave, as either might have hoped, lingering, pressing into the beach further, and the once Reaper almost maneuvered closer, just to see if he could intimidate again.
But then was shifting, a change, and his presumption of Ascended parameters clustered and coiled together. The end result was a very familiar outline of a panther, and there were a few instances where his machinations wielded a horde of presumptions. That man hadn’t been Sunjata, and there were possibilities of other, similar felines in the midst, but the inkling, the notions, were present in his skull, biding opportunities and calculating airs.
The reach out seemed tentative, inexperienced, much like many Attuned when first adapting to the telepathic connections and communications. The beast’s eyes narrowed, pondering if he did want help. A spiteful, petty edge to him almost insisted on no, he would be fine, and in between his restless coils and roaming, the beach’s embankments would be clean once more.
But other than calling him in such a foolish manner earlier, the other creature hadn’t done anything untoward or irritating, and he had no reason to growl, to sear, to devastate, beyond exasperation. If you want were the only deep rumbles the panther would receive, and thereafter, Deimos was moving again, catching a few bits and pieces of paper rolling along a strong breeze.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts