I carried my own ashes to the mountains
He hadn’t expected the childish endeavors; not now – and didn’t play into the foil so readily, so aptly, within the moment. Instead there was a brief snarl, a hackle raised, as he maneuvered away, as the bug drifted further down his back and seemed to continue to nestle in the fur’s midst. It didn’t cease his thoughts, though the Sword dashed a short span, indifferent to the insect and if it remained planted after the threshold of swiftness. Likely within the next season. In time, in measures, in pieces and proportions where they might have more.
And if Sah agreed to it – incapable of reaching Halo for the span of the season by letter.
His laughter didn’t fill the void; still pressed in between the notches of his ribcage and the cords of regret, confusion, and turmoil, preferring stillness in the quiet panes of the cold wilderness. Who knows what has been going on there. In Halo - with any manner of machinations.
And if Sah agreed to it – incapable of reaching Halo for the span of the season by letter.
His laughter didn’t fill the void; still pressed in between the notches of his ribcage and the cords of regret, confusion, and turmoil, preferring stillness in the quiet panes of the cold wilderness. Who knows what has been going on there. In Halo - with any manner of machinations.
DEIMOS
