DEIMOS
what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength
didn't have the strength
The question was expected, given the angles and dominions of curiosity seemingly instilled in both of them – characteristics the world needed, if anything was ever going to be salvaged or solved. But while Seren remained immobile, faceted and riveted, the General’s head remained low and bowed, stare concentrating on the silliness of small, furtive tents and a widening lake – ensuring it didn’t freeze at his touch. “Seemed gentle. Kind.” Not often what some considered and correlated with summer and Longheat’s potential for fire, for flames, for demolition. No temper flared, only some air of potential apprehension, nervousness from one who appeared lost. Perhaps that was a given, since there’d been such devastation when he’d been unfurled and untethered.
He did raise his cranium, however, at the lines coming from the youth thereafter. Something about it sounded eerily familiar – probably because her mother had attempted to drive him into similar corners with sagacity and advice, until it finally sunk into his stubborn burrs and ribs. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, the modicum of thoughts contorting, coiling, in the back of his mind. Deimos had been a creature eternally stuck in the past. Sometimes because it harpooned back to histories, to lives unleashed, to things he didn’t want or crave any longer, or to notions that could work here. So some airs didn’t repeat, even if they were across very different worlds and voids. “I think I will always miss portions of it.” And that he couldn’t erase, not from the withered proportions of all his brambles and thorns. “But I have accepted Caido as my home.” A weak smile followed, turning downward, trying to soften the blows back on his own spirit.
He missed her wince, only arching a brow thereafter, not realizing he’d potentially stepped on something else altogether. Accidents, trials, and tribulations were plenty within any region, but perhaps she’d been fortunate enough at all that Noah had stumbled upon her. There could’ve been a host of other results, damaging and destructive, fumbling from her incident. “Noah is a good man. You could have been found by someone far worse,” and he laughed a little, shrugging his shoulders. Belial inched closer, brushing against his knees. “Where do you come from?”
He did raise his cranium, however, at the lines coming from the youth thereafter. Something about it sounded eerily familiar – probably because her mother had attempted to drive him into similar corners with sagacity and advice, until it finally sunk into his stubborn burrs and ribs. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, the modicum of thoughts contorting, coiling, in the back of his mind. Deimos had been a creature eternally stuck in the past. Sometimes because it harpooned back to histories, to lives unleashed, to things he didn’t want or crave any longer, or to notions that could work here. So some airs didn’t repeat, even if they were across very different worlds and voids. “I think I will always miss portions of it.” And that he couldn’t erase, not from the withered proportions of all his brambles and thorns. “But I have accepted Caido as my home.” A weak smile followed, turning downward, trying to soften the blows back on his own spirit.
He missed her wince, only arching a brow thereafter, not realizing he’d potentially stepped on something else altogether. Accidents, trials, and tribulations were plenty within any region, but perhaps she’d been fortunate enough at all that Noah had stumbled upon her. There could’ve been a host of other results, damaging and destructive, fumbling from her incident. “Noah is a good man. You could have been found by someone far worse,” and he laughed a little, shrugging his shoulders. Belial inched closer, brushing against his knees. “Where do you come from?”
still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke
sturdy and smelling of smoke
