DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
At the very least, in between shelter rendering, preparations, plotting, and reassurances, there were other reparations to be made. While Deimos had none with Juniper, and had assisted the Fae, and the Greatwood at large with defenses and escorting (carrying) the Mathair home, he knew it’d be only a matter of time before another scorch mark would have to be taken care of. So he tread lightly in the columns of the Wildwood groves and timber, following after notes and inquiries, at the diplomat’s request, setting aside the hours and moments necessary for an altogether different kind of hunt.
Not without his companions – Zuriel for her sagacity, intelligence, and healing capabilities, Belial for his spying capabilities. Weaponry was polished for what he savored – blades on hilts, bow strung along his shoulder, quiver on his back. And then he was always an armament in the ways of incantations and shifts; proving to be an armory in his own right.
“Juniper,” he greeted with a nod of his head upon his approach, with his piercing gaze flickering over the boundaries. The peryton gave his own earnest zeal and announcement of arrival, while Zuriel quietly snorted – all of them ready. “Have you hunted one of these before?” For all his experience, he hadn’t, but he’d take the awe of ignorance and curiosity well in hand.
Not without his companions – Zuriel for her sagacity, intelligence, and healing capabilities, Belial for his spying capabilities. Weaponry was polished for what he savored – blades on hilts, bow strung along his shoulder, quiver on his back. And then he was always an armament in the ways of incantations and shifts; proving to be an armory in his own right.
“Juniper,” he greeted with a nod of his head upon his approach, with his piercing gaze flickering over the boundaries. The peryton gave his own earnest zeal and announcement of arrival, while Zuriel quietly snorted – all of them ready. “Have you hunted one of these before?” For all his experience, he hadn’t, but he’d take the awe of ignorance and curiosity well in hand.
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
