DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The same impassivity and reticence applied to this joke, though he did look over his shoulder, an inscrutable narrowing of his eyes, a furrow to his brow, before shrugging and applying his efforts back to the matter at hand. The magic lured and coaxed the loam easily, sliding the particles off to their side, his eyes piercing along the darkness, rising and ascending to glance at the makeshift ceiling. When nothing seemed worse for wear, and the path now passable, he continued to lead the way, Zuriel offering Loren some imperious look, before drifting behind the Sword.
Words, inquiries ricocheting off his mind caused him to pause momentarily, lifting lantern light to cast along the next winding portion of the chosen tunnel. The Sword didn’t quite understand what Loren was leading up to – or if he was interested in completing the journey himself – or if he was just making conversation, filling in the absent space. “Yes. We did not make it far, and spent a majority of time underground.” Safety, security, within the moments of lightning shards and elemental potential. Despite all the magic riddled and chorded into his blood, he hadn’t been able to conquer those contortions; lacking the ability to hasten electricity away from their expanse. “We brought back some unicorns that had been caught in the thick of it.” But incapable of getting them home – for now – without a hastening of those particular enchantments.
Words, inquiries ricocheting off his mind caused him to pause momentarily, lifting lantern light to cast along the next winding portion of the chosen tunnel. The Sword didn’t quite understand what Loren was leading up to – or if he was interested in completing the journey himself – or if he was just making conversation, filling in the absent space. “Yes. We did not make it far, and spent a majority of time underground.” Safety, security, within the moments of lightning shards and elemental potential. Despite all the magic riddled and chorded into his blood, he hadn’t been able to conquer those contortions; lacking the ability to hasten electricity away from their expanse. “We brought back some unicorns that had been caught in the thick of it.” But incapable of getting them home – for now – without a hastening of those particular enchantments.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
