[se] i got lost to find my way

I carried my own ashes to the mountains

Frey; not a herald Deimos was overly familiar with. The stories strung along the two-pronged deity weren’t usually ones he orchestrated himself within – and the few times he’d come across the nature angled had been due to Halo’s outreach. Perhaps it was fitting for Noah – a man of the world anyway, hunting and gathering flora and fauna for his people. The General, if he were nosey enough, might’ve asked what Noah sought, but he refrained – nodding and stretching his gaze out over the mounds and barrows, graves of yesteryear and worlds already long since collided.

That Phoebe’s influence extended into the mountain region surprised him, but that wasn’t worth expressing. Instead, he continued to angle onward, while Noah contemplated and completed his flower arrangement, breathing in a deepened sigh, taking in the rolling fields before him, capturing present moments, because they wouldn’t see something like this again in the landscape they called home. In the distance, he could see some motion, some animals, speckled against the green backdrop, and Zuriel raised her head at the notice – ears pricked, nares widening. A sharp neigh filled the silence thereafter, exuding and echoing from his companion, and he shook his head, pointing out her necessity to call out. “Unicorns.”

DEIMOS