DEIMOS
what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength
didn't have the strength
He arched a brow at her laughter, but understood it in the midst of self-deprecation, an ease into his faults, flaws, and defects; but he couldn’t help his height, and the bulk alongside it came with training, purposeful, meaningful, to protect and shield the masses. But the segment he did choose to respond to corresponded with a snort, mild sarcasm as his eyes followed and traced after a pumpkin. “Grumpy? I always thought it was brooding.” Her playful bump into him didn’t move his mass at all, and he didn’t strike back, though a wayward elbow might have caught her in the shoulder if he hadn’t been careful.
Gaze segmented on the arrow that soon slid into the wayward gourd, and he utilized his Air incantations to pick it up, so it floated amongst the pews and obsidian for a moment, before being ushered into the basket. Then his strides could resume through the weird adornments of the layered, lacquered void – cornering any stray gourds before Belial could get to them.
But her experience in archery seemed to bring back good memories, and he learned more about the stranger, of the person, rather than another passerby in Halo. “They do become a part of us,” he mused; a light smile tracing over his features, recalling blades in his hand at a young age too – wooden bombardments first, well before steel, before they ever knew or understood the meaning of the weaponry.
Gaze segmented on the arrow that soon slid into the wayward gourd, and he utilized his Air incantations to pick it up, so it floated amongst the pews and obsidian for a moment, before being ushered into the basket. Then his strides could resume through the weird adornments of the layered, lacquered void – cornering any stray gourds before Belial could get to them.
But her experience in archery seemed to bring back good memories, and he learned more about the stranger, of the person, rather than another passerby in Halo. “They do become a part of us,” he mused; a light smile tracing over his features, recalling blades in his hand at a young age too – wooden bombardments first, well before steel, before they ever knew or understood the meaning of the weaponry.
still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke
sturdy and smelling of smoke
