Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
He really had no business being in the Greatwood – not when he’d relocated to Halo, not when there were a whole other series of circumstances maneuvering around him like pieces and pawns. Another instance of trying to clean out his house, of striving to alleviate some of the pain, agony, and torment now centered around those particular thresholds, had once again failed, and he found himself outside, along the field behind it, plunging into deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling quickly, then slowly, until it all faded away.
Except it didn’t. Probably never would – not when he glanced at Kiada’s nearby, not when these were just foundations torn apart.
Wisps of smoke caught his attention though, highlighted along the tops of trees, canopies with plumes of acrid decree rising and ascending towards the sky. The beast had been caught so many times in the threshold of flames that it hardly paid him any mind; he could recall instance upon instance, in fact, the very same, upcoming scenario, where the scorching layers seethed. Where he was told it was natural.
To let the world be destroyed?
On a whim, he took to the air, golden eagle feathers tawny and content to be utilized again, soaring, sharp eyes picking up bits and pieces of the threshold down below, and then he reached over the sanction of burning copses – and plunged, headlong, shifting back when he could land safely on the ground, gaze sweeping, taking in all of the damage, plight, and precision.
Oh yes, this looked remarkably familiar.
He thought he saw Loren through the smoke and haze, which struck him as peculiar (completely unaware of other events recently taking place), and potentially Juniper, firing arrows. I can help circumvented through Attuned measures, uncertain if the Fae would be able to hear, and intending for the Firebrand to do so. I will try to control the blaze.
So he did just that – wielding the potency of his bloodlines, attempting to snag at the inferno, make it recede, make it smaller, snagging at the enmity, at the conflagration.
--
Deimos tries to use his Mastered Fire manipulation to diminish the fire.
Except it didn’t. Probably never would – not when he glanced at Kiada’s nearby, not when these were just foundations torn apart.
Wisps of smoke caught his attention though, highlighted along the tops of trees, canopies with plumes of acrid decree rising and ascending towards the sky. The beast had been caught so many times in the threshold of flames that it hardly paid him any mind; he could recall instance upon instance, in fact, the very same, upcoming scenario, where the scorching layers seethed. Where he was told it was natural.
To let the world be destroyed?
On a whim, he took to the air, golden eagle feathers tawny and content to be utilized again, soaring, sharp eyes picking up bits and pieces of the threshold down below, and then he reached over the sanction of burning copses – and plunged, headlong, shifting back when he could land safely on the ground, gaze sweeping, taking in all of the damage, plight, and precision.
Oh yes, this looked remarkably familiar.
He thought he saw Loren through the smoke and haze, which struck him as peculiar (completely unaware of other events recently taking place), and potentially Juniper, firing arrows. I can help circumvented through Attuned measures, uncertain if the Fae would be able to hear, and intending for the Firebrand to do so. I will try to control the blaze.
So he did just that – wielding the potency of his bloodlines, attempting to snag at the inferno, make it recede, make it smaller, snagging at the enmity, at the conflagration.
--
Deimos tries to use his Mastered Fire manipulation to diminish the fire.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
