Deimos
In discussion and gathering other filaments necessary for their amusements, Deimos hadn’t noticed the familiar youth until he was at his side; addressing him once more as Warden. The Sword let it peel away from him, for now, not hinting at the irritation the title gave him, at the transgressions of the past crawling down his spine. He’d purposefully orchestrated the event for amusements, and easing off the ghosts from his shoulders was a step towards those directions.
So instead of furrowing his brow and mustering a low rumble, a growl from his chest, the monolith nodded, glancing from the individual, and to the hill before them – at presently absent, no one rampaging down its slope yet. “Belril,” his gaze landed back upon the child, and then his head tilted only a certain degree, in accord with the range, the mild summit, and the artifacts waiting for someone to grab them. There was no need to race along and account for who was first – though the boy had every opportunity to claim that mild victory. “Go try it.” Permission granted, and another nod, before his jaw jutted forward, imploring the movements towards embankments and diversions.
So instead of furrowing his brow and mustering a low rumble, a growl from his chest, the monolith nodded, glancing from the individual, and to the hill before them – at presently absent, no one rampaging down its slope yet. “Belril,” his gaze landed back upon the child, and then his head tilted only a certain degree, in accord with the range, the mild summit, and the artifacts waiting for someone to grab them. There was no need to race along and account for who was first – though the boy had every opportunity to claim that mild victory. “Go try it.” Permission granted, and another nod, before his jaw jutted forward, imploring the movements towards embankments and diversions.
i rule the stars, not the other way around
