I carried my own ashes to the mountains
Similar again then, in aspects of gratitude, shrugging the acknowledgements away. Perhaps Noah too was amongst the first to offer power, might, strength, demolition, or ruin, as the word often committed; attempting to make himself useful in any regard. To not be worthless, ineffectual, or inept, struggling just the same, edging his soul closer to oblivion and fires, waiting until the right moment to cast himself off and away – better and better each day, in healing those broken, battered figments. The Sword blinked at the man, quiet and self-assured, nodding his head in admitting to not bring the subject up again, then lowering his piercing eyes back to the ground, to altars, to naught.
And still, it felt like a debt was owed.
The proposition and potential appeared no more than an instant later, and the beast rose too, away from bending and crouching amidst hushed quandaries and inexplicable enigmas, his head turned over his shoulder, grabbing hold of his bag. “I would be willing.” Nuances of vehemence, of vitriol, of unleashed, rampant hostility across the wide open tundras sounded like dreams and notions of yesteryears, and suddenly he couldn’t have yearned for anything more. “What do you hunt here?”
And still, it felt like a debt was owed.
The proposition and potential appeared no more than an instant later, and the beast rose too, away from bending and crouching amidst hushed quandaries and inexplicable enigmas, his head turned over his shoulder, grabbing hold of his bag. “I would be willing.” Nuances of vehemence, of vitriol, of unleashed, rampant hostility across the wide open tundras sounded like dreams and notions of yesteryears, and suddenly he couldn’t have yearned for anything more. “What do you hunt here?”
DEIMOS
