DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Deimos leaned forward, elbows resting on thighs, listening to each and every individual. His mind flickered and volleyed to each, attentive and focused, straining, grasping, at the information. An election, pushed by the Halo people, only for them to decide Morgan still fit somewhere in the midst. The possibility of the next task for the mountains to be in the Voice’s hands (and if he clenched his jaw or a fist here; it was better than sputtering about in anger).
Until finally, there was a lull, and he could at least place some matter within. “I agree, it has to be with the people. It has to be what they want, and they do not need to needlessly suffer again.” Especially if they rushed it once more. And it would take longer; even worse when access was not going to be readily available come the following season. “My concerns lie with Deepfrost coming, and you being locked down,” his eyes glanced to Sah and Cordelia. Because Seren was correct in that aspect – not all of this should be placed on them. “So how can we start swaying them in the meantime?” Before trails froze over and left them in the frigid expanse? Was it sowing more distrust in Morgan, or showing them where to go, where to turn, in terms of heralds? How many more were left? “And what did everyone have to say about her going to the Voice?” Which only proved their point on matters before – he nearly shook his head at the notions of it.
As far as him and Noah, and likely Hotaru (though he wasn’t certain of that aspect yet either), it might’ve been best that they didn’t have a place to tie themselves to. “We can stay in the Wilds for now.” He said nothing of Seren’s upcoming quest; an outlier that likely the fewer people knew about, the better. He wasn’t going to ask the Greatwood for shelter, not when involvement with their refugee status would mean something else entirely for the forest dwellers. If they needed to make some temporary sanctuary, he figured they’d be capable of building one.
But it still left that question of what they could do outside of the mountains and summits.
Until finally, there was a lull, and he could at least place some matter within. “I agree, it has to be with the people. It has to be what they want, and they do not need to needlessly suffer again.” Especially if they rushed it once more. And it would take longer; even worse when access was not going to be readily available come the following season. “My concerns lie with Deepfrost coming, and you being locked down,” his eyes glanced to Sah and Cordelia. Because Seren was correct in that aspect – not all of this should be placed on them. “So how can we start swaying them in the meantime?” Before trails froze over and left them in the frigid expanse? Was it sowing more distrust in Morgan, or showing them where to go, where to turn, in terms of heralds? How many more were left? “And what did everyone have to say about her going to the Voice?” Which only proved their point on matters before – he nearly shook his head at the notions of it.
As far as him and Noah, and likely Hotaru (though he wasn’t certain of that aspect yet either), it might’ve been best that they didn’t have a place to tie themselves to. “We can stay in the Wilds for now.” He said nothing of Seren’s upcoming quest; an outlier that likely the fewer people knew about, the better. He wasn’t going to ask the Greatwood for shelter, not when involvement with their refugee status would mean something else entirely for the forest dwellers. If they needed to make some temporary sanctuary, he figured they’d be capable of building one.
But it still left that question of what they could do outside of the mountains and summits.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
