DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
With the gatherings, and subsequent necessities in place, Deimos eyed the branches nearby. His eagle shift would be capable of winding his way through the boughs, testing out some parameters of strength, while still maintaining height amidst the canopies. If necessary, he could always sit on them as a tiger and see how well they held up. “I can scout,” he rumbled, managing to nod towards the others, before shifting.
Sienna plumes and feathers soared along, intending to search and survey the denizens and properties: talons gripping ahold of some proportions, tugging to see if they’d break apart easily, or landing firmly on them, testing the weight. If they couldn’t hold his form, they certainly weren’t going to be enough for what the rest intended.
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Deimos shifts into an eagle and goes to scout the branches!
Sienna plumes and feathers soared along, intending to search and survey the denizens and properties: talons gripping ahold of some proportions, tugging to see if they’d break apart easily, or landing firmly on them, testing the weight. If they couldn’t hold his form, they certainly weren’t going to be enough for what the rest intended.
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Deimos shifts into an eagle and goes to scout the branches!
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
