DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Baskets melded, grabbed, lifted, and carried, inevitably to maneuver one after the other on a string of munitions and movements, he glanced over his shoulder at the suggestion. “If you want.” The Sword wasn’t one to stare efficiency in the face and avoid it, but he also wasn’t going to permit Sunjata to do all the heavy lifting, massive shift or not. After the initial motion towards the wagon, he continued, a consistent use of muscles and brawn.
With the predilections, machinations, and everything else tucked away, back within his mind for further planning, plotting, likely amidst the council or some other fabrications, he was only brought back into other musings by the inquiry. And perhaps it was a rightful one, considering events within the sanction of the summits; but then again, nearly all of the lands had some kind of disastrous implements and instruments around them. They’d happened to stumble into one quickly, swiftly, and stupidly, and it’d left a mark. One they couldn’t quite erase, a lesson learned, chiseled, and scraped down within survivors of stupidity. “I like it. The people are tough and determined. I have never minded the cold.” Not when he’d been a refugee of the mountains in another life, biding their time along caverns and snowfall, stalking, presiding, and scavenging for a way towards something else. And while Halo certainly wasn’t the Basin, it had its merits.
Nor was it the Grounds, which now only felt like ruins.
A pause tore through him, though it was swift and sudden, brows furrowing while he carried the next interval of fish over. “When I am strong enough, I am considering attempting to retrieve Adam and Peter.”
With the predilections, machinations, and everything else tucked away, back within his mind for further planning, plotting, likely amidst the council or some other fabrications, he was only brought back into other musings by the inquiry. And perhaps it was a rightful one, considering events within the sanction of the summits; but then again, nearly all of the lands had some kind of disastrous implements and instruments around them. They’d happened to stumble into one quickly, swiftly, and stupidly, and it’d left a mark. One they couldn’t quite erase, a lesson learned, chiseled, and scraped down within survivors of stupidity. “I like it. The people are tough and determined. I have never minded the cold.” Not when he’d been a refugee of the mountains in another life, biding their time along caverns and snowfall, stalking, presiding, and scavenging for a way towards something else. And while Halo certainly wasn’t the Basin, it had its merits.
Nor was it the Grounds, which now only felt like ruins.
A pause tore through him, though it was swift and sudden, brows furrowing while he carried the next interval of fish over. “When I am strong enough, I am considering attempting to retrieve Adam and Peter.”
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
