DEIMOS
“Thank you,” honor amongst the congratulations, muffled by the nod of his head, by his eyes running over the lanterns again, by the finality of the situation still curling and coiling over his spine. Glas’s words were a distraction from the ultimate semblance and notes of where these guiding lights would be placed, scratching over the surface, fanning over the flames, bolstered against the enamel and lacquer he bore. He couldn’t crack and fray here, not in front of a stranger, Natural, accompanied and encompassed by the mountains long before he’d arrived. Zuriel snorted in his ear and his brows furrowed in her direction, before wiping off the onslaught from the side of his face, sliding it back upon her muzzle.
His gaze lifted off the filaments and fragments of two souls he couldn’t have again, not for a long while yet, and back to the scarred man, to the family capabilities, to the adornments he must’ve, might’ve, seen, in the reaches of the Palace. Was it pride in the other man’s voice, or something lost? “They were well done.” Presuming they wouldn’t have been order or arranged to remain in the icy spires if not up to standard or preferences. “What is your favorite thing to craft?” A nuance, an attempt, of getting to know the people of Halo, of extending out of his own void, of striving to be more than the hollowed, carved out blade.
His gaze lifted off the filaments and fragments of two souls he couldn’t have again, not for a long while yet, and back to the scarred man, to the family capabilities, to the adornments he must’ve, might’ve, seen, in the reaches of the Palace. Was it pride in the other man’s voice, or something lost? “They were well done.” Presuming they wouldn’t have been order or arranged to remain in the icy spires if not up to standard or preferences. “What is your favorite thing to craft?” A nuance, an attempt, of getting to know the people of Halo, of extending out of his own void, of striving to be more than the hollowed, carved out blade.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
