[PQ] rivers belong where they can ramble

Deimos If Deimos had been surprised by the last round of success, these moments of established triumph were baffling. The surge and swell of power was nothing new, but the precision, the prowess, mauling and honing through the proceedings hadn’t been felt in ages, and confidence reigned instead of being cast along a shadow. Whatever dread and apprehension that had coursed through his veins, the warning signs became indignant and unworthy, as the potency flared, defying odds, parameters, and particulars. Almost as if things were normal again. Almost as if the affliction hadn’t taken its toll. He released a breath when all of it was finished, Zuriel back at his side (similarly shocked). The monolith backed away a few steps, snorting at the way in which the Stonesong had returned. “Somehow.” A shrug, half a grin edged along his mouth, before nodding at Loren, and peeling away, along the abandoned cart, and its piles of sticks and twigs, a wave extended, before hastening off to snag at the rest of his chosen burdens. -- Deimos out! Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime