DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
An arched brow and silence to follow the movements of the dragon, shaking his head out of some poor amusement, before returning to the wagon with his own basket. Halfway laden already, the beast snagged at those Sunjata had dropped off, ensuring they had a proper arrangement for the upcoming trip to the portal, and nothing would be lost along the way. Otherwise the quiet left him to the work, to the action of muscles pulling and joining, in applying strength comfortably, in permitting and allowing the basis of his endurance to find itself again, constantly recovering from the ensuring days of afflictions and lunacy. And he never wanted to find himself so weak, so pathetic, so inept, so useless again.
So that it rounded back to his previous comment was no surprise; a stifling, stiffening contortion amongst the unyielding individuals – each with their own munitions, thoughts, and ideals. The Flood didn’t mock him for his ideas, and the Sword already had misgivings of his own on the whole forefront. A number of plans, with a number of things that could go awry, and he had no intention of leading anyone into another slaughter. “Yes,” he answered first; a sigh sauntering through his lungs, filtered and flickered out into the sea air. “It does not feel right to leave them in there.” As draconic treasure – like trophies. “Unless you have a better idea.” Because while not entirely like-minded, the General could at least listen.
So that it rounded back to his previous comment was no surprise; a stifling, stiffening contortion amongst the unyielding individuals – each with their own munitions, thoughts, and ideals. The Flood didn’t mock him for his ideas, and the Sword already had misgivings of his own on the whole forefront. A number of plans, with a number of things that could go awry, and he had no intention of leading anyone into another slaughter. “Yes,” he answered first; a sigh sauntering through his lungs, filtered and flickered out into the sea air. “It does not feel right to leave them in there.” As draconic treasure – like trophies. “Unless you have a better idea.” Because while not entirely like-minded, the General could at least listen.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
