DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
He opened his mouth to follow suit with another regret, but closed it shortly thereafter at Noah’s insistence. Frowning, he took a few moments to crouch before the shrine, placing the gathered wares amongst the stone, and then creating a bowl to ensure the presentation was suitable for the god. “Thank you,” he prospered instead, though perhaps it was uncertain whether it was for Frey or the Sentinel, but he’d let it settle into the air for the time being. Then he shrugged and rolled his shoulders, as if striving to lose the pieces and portions of rigidity, take them elsewhere, off and away, back to where they belonged. “It just seemed very unlike her.” Maybe she’d grown and changed in such a way that he couldn’t understand the nuances any longer; too far apart and gone.
Thereafter, he rifled through his bag, trying to find the cream he’d traded and bartered for in the market. “And I did not want to take away from your accomplishments.” For it had been a huge honor to be chosen for Vi, just as it had been for Amalia.
Thereafter, he rifled through his bag, trying to find the cream he’d traded and bartered for in the market. “And I did not want to take away from your accomplishments.” For it had been a huge honor to be chosen for Vi, just as it had been for Amalia.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
