who we are and all that we're trying to be
He probably should’ve anticipated an audience; but had simply chosen seclusion and hoped for the best. At the low whistle as puffs of air streamed from his nares, his eyes quickly darted to the woman – completely unknown and foreign to him. Which was odd, given his existence here for a year or so, believing he’d run into quite a few amongst and amidst the community. Perhaps she was new, or had been burrowed into the snow, into the peaks, and driven back amidst the summer.
The Sword gave nothing to her but an inscrutable expression for half a moment – eyes narrowing, ignoring the way the rest of the target falling to the floor in a dull, muted, slow expanse. He commanded a brief examination and scrutiny, mostly over the posture, and the garb, unmatched and disjointed in their stance and accord.
Bizarre, but it peeled into his curiosity. Making no other maneuver or agreement, save for resting his blade over his shoulder, Deimos tilted his head a fraction as she chose another corner. “What is your experience?”
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
