DEIMOS
The mare’s mane curled and coiled from the sea breeze and plaited entanglements, left now to the wind. He grabbed hold of a nearby brush and began the ritual they’d completed every day, softer strokes over the unicorn’s neck and shoulder while she chewed through the remaining carrots. Simplistic, but something to hold onto for all the moments that weren’t – the rise of her head, the prick of her ears, indicating another approaching.
His attention went to the Shield immediately, as it so often did, habitual and inherent too. Unaware of the muted bond, of the nothingness between, he couldn’t hear, couldn’t prepare, couldn’t fathom anything more, following her with his eyes as she came closer and closer still. Despite their last conversations, or lack thereof, he still offered those edges, those fringes of a smile, brushing down the length of Zuriel’s back, the unicorn’s own uncertainties suddenly coming through.
He arched a brow as she stumbled, returning the bristled adornments to their designated sanction, wiping his hands together as he went to meet her. “Hello,” the Sword offered in his quiet rumble, leaning against the deck railing, the unforeseeable events from their last parting, the renditions of the unknown, of her telling him to go, to leave pooling in his veins. “Everything all right?” She’d gone on without him – while he’d been in Torchline, pulled into another potential calamity – and was only here now.
His attention went to the Shield immediately, as it so often did, habitual and inherent too. Unaware of the muted bond, of the nothingness between, he couldn’t hear, couldn’t prepare, couldn’t fathom anything more, following her with his eyes as she came closer and closer still. Despite their last conversations, or lack thereof, he still offered those edges, those fringes of a smile, brushing down the length of Zuriel’s back, the unicorn’s own uncertainties suddenly coming through.
He arched a brow as she stumbled, returning the bristled adornments to their designated sanction, wiping his hands together as he went to meet her. “Hello,” the Sword offered in his quiet rumble, leaning against the deck railing, the unforeseeable events from their last parting, the renditions of the unknown, of her telling him to go, to leave pooling in his veins. “Everything all right?” She’d gone on without him – while he’d been in Torchline, pulled into another potential calamity – and was only here now.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
