DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
She offered a similar aspect from what he’d heard before, but with an alternative view. And instead of miring down in the facets of its meanings, as he might’ve in seasons past, Deimos prospered and carried a light laugh, affectionate, grateful, she’d responded at all. “Avoidance,” he murmured, lifting his gaze towards the deepening, darkening sky, still finding himself willing it to change hues, to blend into a series of greens, reds, violets, and blues; and when it didn’t he shifted back towards her, leaning into the bench once more with a sigh. “I have had some very long conversations with Hotaru and Safrin. I am working on…talking,” and he wrinkled his nose, as if the very nature of it still remained vastly unappealing. “Not constantly giving, and then evading my own needs.” As he’d done time and time and time again – a cycle, a pattern, from the Aurora Basin until now.
Ignoring provisions like rest, repose, shelter, and sanctuary – proffering it towards others and then never granting it to himself. “I attempted to set some boundaries with crafting, at least, when Nate asked me to make him a diamond.” He shrugged his shoulders, snorting at the recollections. “He came across very entitled, and did not seem to care about Ru, so I said no, and told him where to find one.” And it could’ve ended there, but the Ascended Demigod had taken it ten times further, which made the monolith wonder if that was going to happen over and over and over – if he’d been too little, too late, with this newfound approach. “He did not take it well.”
Ignoring provisions like rest, repose, shelter, and sanctuary – proffering it towards others and then never granting it to himself. “I attempted to set some boundaries with crafting, at least, when Nate asked me to make him a diamond.” He shrugged his shoulders, snorting at the recollections. “He came across very entitled, and did not seem to care about Ru, so I said no, and told him where to find one.” And it could’ve ended there, but the Ascended Demigod had taken it ten times further, which made the monolith wonder if that was going to happen over and over and over – if he’d been too little, too late, with this newfound approach. “He did not take it well.”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
