DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Exciting or daunting seemed to be the threshold for a multitude of things in Caido. Depending on one’s correlation of experiences, they likely intermingled and remained interchangeable; Deimos had seen his fair share of both – amusements, and then apprehension coiling within. Looking for a dragon had started out with its parameters of alliances, friendships, and camaraderie, and then had quickly diminished into a horrifying, torturous wake. The tides turned quickly here – in the mountains, the sea, or anywhere melded and molded in between.
Half a smile rested on his mouth, around another portion of jerky as she recalled the bird. “Could always test it on a hunt.” And if he’d been incorrect about the whole thing, it was still a small matter. They’d be able to pencil in on documents that it brought no harm, despite its bright, vivid, warning colors. The same could be said if he was right; and big ominous lettering marked in between, beside sketches and hues.
He laughed at the mention of them being snagged and taken from their bemusements, and thrown into the throes of the jungle. It was likely the liquor’s arrangement for his chuckles, because the notion hadn’t been funny when it first occurred – confusing, bewildering, and unsettling, until he’d figured out their bearings. “It does cause somewhat of a problem.” However, there was a strange inconsistency with it – unpredictable and varied. He’d yet to discuss it with very many, but the bizarreness stayed chiseled in the back of his mind, clouding with the alcohol. “But I have gone to the Wilds afterwards, and not been teleported.”
Half a smile rested on his mouth, around another portion of jerky as she recalled the bird. “Could always test it on a hunt.” And if he’d been incorrect about the whole thing, it was still a small matter. They’d be able to pencil in on documents that it brought no harm, despite its bright, vivid, warning colors. The same could be said if he was right; and big ominous lettering marked in between, beside sketches and hues.
He laughed at the mention of them being snagged and taken from their bemusements, and thrown into the throes of the jungle. It was likely the liquor’s arrangement for his chuckles, because the notion hadn’t been funny when it first occurred – confusing, bewildering, and unsettling, until he’d figured out their bearings. “It does cause somewhat of a problem.” However, there was a strange inconsistency with it – unpredictable and varied. He’d yet to discuss it with very many, but the bizarreness stayed chiseled in the back of his mind, clouding with the alcohol. “But I have gone to the Wilds afterwards, and not been teleported.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
