how they armor themselves for you

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Perhaps keeping Halo in the Old Gods’ reach would be enough of a challenge; given the other particulars. The impending circle of something else, more than just fabrications of war, skimming and seething, lancing down over shoulders. Work to be done, and he’d certainly made another mess here today. It would be all in how he managed to navigate the mire; most of his own creation. “Understood.” Other questions gnawed at him, but it’d be for another time, another place; not this one, which had been lacquered and layered in disappointments, in pain, in manifested boundaries. Instead, he would answer hers, and then no longer take up any of her time; the actions done, the die cast, the manifestations clear and distinct. “I will,” to the promise of lighting up the sky, the plumage new and crackling in his blood. “And in whatever capacity they need me. But yes, I intend to protect it.” All of it; the land, the people, the vestiges – what he’d sworn to do so long ago. Eyes downcast and lifting, shoulders shifting, placing new weights and responsibilities his to possess. “Thank you for giving me your guidance.” A bow of his head, and then he could be gone, into those stormy, brooding skies. {FIN} master of nothing place; of recoil and grace