who we are and all that we're trying to be
The thrill of rapacious success contorted through his frame, some foolish segments of pride he hadn’t had in weeks (and over a rock), as the stone was dislodged. He dipped his head down, jaw interlocking over the jagged surface, pulling, pulling, pulling, haunch muscles undulating, until it was liberated from the loam. The beast shoved it off to the side, figuring someone would be able to utilize it, and only then heard, noticed, the commotion.
The Sword glanced over to compatriots to find an odd, bizarre situation unfolding. Ronin’s luxere contortions were at work, visibly shaking hooves, bucking, and then launching sideways into the panther, who was scurrying around. Are you all right? came across the bond to both, because quite frankly, he didn’t have a clue as to what was going on.
His eyes caught another creature scuttling nearby, some sort of ant, clearly intending to return to its home – and he placed a semblance of the occurrence together. On a hunch and whim, and it wouldn’t hurt to try, ushering his compelling abilities, telling it – and perhaps its cohorts, to leave.
Then he resumed his digging, intending to make more progress.
--
Deimos tries to compel the ants away, and keeps digging.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts