DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Some other moments, some other days, pulled and tugged at him – silly, inane seconds spent as Attuned, with Adam, atop the Spire. Rushing headlong. Diving, swooping, cheating death in the way that fools often did. It panged right in the middle of his chest, and he tried to ignore it – because in some way they’d all been resurrected from those hours and there was no going back – commenting with only a nod, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Her question gave him the slightest pause, but he had the answer swiftly, eyes reaching past the markets, and then back towards her; the grin there again, as if it had never left. “By Torchline. We could see the ocean once we got our bearings. Might be good for your vines.” The notions of please, be careful slunk into his mind, and then he remembered she couldn’t hear them – and wondered if that was okay too. That she couldn’t feel the weight of apprehension still there, lacquered within his being, that she couldn’t absorb the trepidation of everything else pervading into his entity, shared across bonds.
His gaze lowered, and he could hear Belial making his way over, soft ears under his hand, before pressing on. Trying to keep the realm light, not weary, not entangled and mired in his sentiments, he altered over another topic. “Did Ru tell you what happened with Sunjata and Nate?”
Her question gave him the slightest pause, but he had the answer swiftly, eyes reaching past the markets, and then back towards her; the grin there again, as if it had never left. “By Torchline. We could see the ocean once we got our bearings. Might be good for your vines.” The notions of please, be careful slunk into his mind, and then he remembered she couldn’t hear them – and wondered if that was okay too. That she couldn’t feel the weight of apprehension still there, lacquered within his being, that she couldn’t absorb the trepidation of everything else pervading into his entity, shared across bonds.
His gaze lowered, and he could hear Belial making his way over, soft ears under his hand, before pressing on. Trying to keep the realm light, not weary, not entangled and mired in his sentiments, he altered over another topic. “Did Ru tell you what happened with Sunjata and Nate?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
