It's taken a lifetime to lose my way
All the wasted time on my hands turns to sand
Hands shaken, the beast allowed his to rest down by his side once more as her apprehension seemed to buoy, seemed to brim, and the strong, stalwart essence of his existence remained, vigilant, mighty, muffling away the wayward conditions of a smile threatening to rest along his mouth. Likely out of amusement, or the pangs of yearning to see snow again – he’d understand it. Had in the very roots and edges and fringes of his soul, over and over and over again until sometimes he thought he’d burst from the memories, the pangs, and things always seemingly left behind. But he maintained his polite accord, gaze flickering away from her and following after her eyes to the Fangs, the stretches of portals, and other figments lingering within the caves. “And how did you find the Greatwood?” Sometimes pleasant, sometimes wicked, sometimes potent, sometimes grand; as enigmatic and mysterious as the rest of the void. The Sword wasn’t certain of how many Naturals from Halo ventured out into the worlds beyond their own, how they felt stepping into lands not immersed in ice and rime.
The inquiry bolstering back upon him didn’t rankle or bother, a shrug undulating along shoulders, underneath the burden of furs. Zuriel snorted, wandering her way forward to inspect Hester, the same dignified, haughty expression remaining on her features, while Deimos perused through explanations. “I have a task from Ludo. Was intending to have some communication devices made for Halo.” Mostly because he knew himself, and the amazingly foolish actions he often took in the wakes and throngs of protection and shielding. “I was hoping to find some shed luxere antlers.” His head tilted back to her after the rumble ceased – perhaps he’d be in luck and she would’ve already seen some, if there was a particular glow instilled nearby.
The inquiry bolstering back upon him didn’t rankle or bother, a shrug undulating along shoulders, underneath the burden of furs. Zuriel snorted, wandering her way forward to inspect Hester, the same dignified, haughty expression remaining on her features, while Deimos perused through explanations. “I have a task from Ludo. Was intending to have some communication devices made for Halo.” Mostly because he knew himself, and the amazingly foolish actions he often took in the wakes and throngs of protection and shielding. “I was hoping to find some shed luxere antlers.” His head tilted back to her after the rumble ceased – perhaps he’d be in luck and she would’ve already seen some, if there was a particular glow instilled nearby.
I'm fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
