DEIMOS
The Sword had to shoo the peryton out, before folding the bag up, and placing it once more in the thresholds of his pockets. Belial accepted the fond movements and scratches with more exhilaration, leaning into the motions scraping against his skin, tracing over his antlers. He knew. He’d been there. He’d seen it. He'd understood if she needed the companionship in another form, another way. He’d stayed still as stone while every urge had told the little companion to flee – because he’d had to be the watcher, the spy, the informant sending details back and forth to Deimos when Atlas was just…gone, and some part of that made the former General’s heart ache too. The young deer was far from innocent; but there never a good moment to witness a friend be bludgeoned to death.
Deimos expressed none of this outwardly, merely permitted the gestures to continue and persist in fond silence, lifting his eyes from the wriggling carnivore and back to Hotaru. Plans somewhat finalized, in between sketches, everything left to pen and paper, rather than said aloft. So he nodded, eyes downcast for a moment. ”I have many regrets, but I do not think this will be one of them.”
Deimos expressed none of this outwardly, merely permitted the gestures to continue and persist in fond silence, lifting his eyes from the wriggling carnivore and back to Hotaru. Plans somewhat finalized, in between sketches, everything left to pen and paper, rather than said aloft. So he nodded, eyes downcast for a moment. ”I have many regrets, but I do not think this will be one of them.”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
