DEIMOS
Leopard rolls and a crackling hearth, with a unicorn side-eyeing all of the actions, hadn’t been the repose he thought he’d catch and snag today, but he took it for what it was worth, breathing deeper, relaxing in the threshold of fires and friends. That Aisha had gone to the shrine merely on whims and reflection gave him some sort of pause – because he’d never been the type of individual to do either. They were based calculations, machinations, last measures, or devises of pleading, begging things, pressing his knees into soil and listening as appeals went ignored. Different times, different worlds, different realms had afforded alternating circumstances, but the press of his faith in himself, rather than steadfast into heralds and deities had remained. It’d shifted with moments, with clarity, with individuals, but some contortion of his reclusive, distrusting armaments remained. He might’ve asked her if she’d gained any insights, any points of favor, any machinations for the future – but perhaps the cat had been enough. The Sword loosened the semblance of a soft, muffled laugh again, rotating the spit, watching the meat begin to turn a golden brown. His eyes didn’t glance her way, but he felt her presence regardless, permitted a crooked grin. “Safrin, usually. Ludo once.”
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
