DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Another sound cried out – sharper, etched and edged in synonymous wakes of torment and terror. And immediately he tensed, spine straightening into taut manifestations, too used to the sway and call of monsters. Too used to LongNight dilemmas. Too used to presuming the worst; a lure, an enticement of damage and persuasion and trickery, veils and shrouds of valor, and then the dominion of damnation to follow. His eyes glanced towards Zuriel, and the calculations immersed between the pair.
To follow, or to ignore.
Warden and General and Sword and Reaper all coiled into one – and he sighed, expecting some other doomsday, ominous beacon to blister and scorch upon them as they moved, tracing after the sorrowful sounds, away from the lines of homes, nearing the walls of the Tundra abyss, as if something meant to pull them into the stark, ivory void. As if they’d be snagged and snatched, snared and destroyed. As if the haunting manacles would bite and rip, tear and grab.
And still, they marched, taking in the wind and attempting to find the cause.
To follow, or to ignore.
Warden and General and Sword and Reaper all coiled into one – and he sighed, expecting some other doomsday, ominous beacon to blister and scorch upon them as they moved, tracing after the sorrowful sounds, away from the lines of homes, nearing the walls of the Tundra abyss, as if something meant to pull them into the stark, ivory void. As if they’d be snagged and snatched, snared and destroyed. As if the haunting manacles would bite and rip, tear and grab.
And still, they marched, taking in the wind and attempting to find the cause.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
