DEIMOS
The Sword still had no intention of motioning towards a shrine of Safrin’s with anything other than apologies, regrets, and promises to do better. To right the wrongs. To blend straight back into their mistakes, and alter the course. And while they had things in motion, it still didn’t sit right to wonder, to presume; so he marched diligently up and around the stairs with artifacts and offers in hand, and nothing else.
But he could hear a semblance of noises surrounding, pervading through the threshold. It seemed someone else had already claimed the altar and sanctuary, and the soldier very nearly turned around, back the way he came. He could always continue the pardoning tour later.
Except he paused at the way the voice resounded, and the squawking that seemed to follow suit. Brows furrowing, he gave forth a collective sigh, before continuing upwards, placing the items back into his bag.
Whatever he expected while ascending the winding path – it wasn’t the depicted image waiting for him at the top. A hoard of Hels, clearly taking ownership of the sanctum, had rampaged through, and had been for some time, if the droppings were any evidence. He recognized the grumbling figure from long, long before, but still layered it as a question as he leaned against the railing, blinking against the haphazard display. “Harper?” Muffling another snort, because some part of this whole thing made him want to laugh, he jutted his jaw towards the irritating creatures. “Do you want some help?”
But he could hear a semblance of noises surrounding, pervading through the threshold. It seemed someone else had already claimed the altar and sanctuary, and the soldier very nearly turned around, back the way he came. He could always continue the pardoning tour later.
Except he paused at the way the voice resounded, and the squawking that seemed to follow suit. Brows furrowing, he gave forth a collective sigh, before continuing upwards, placing the items back into his bag.
Whatever he expected while ascending the winding path – it wasn’t the depicted image waiting for him at the top. A hoard of Hels, clearly taking ownership of the sanctum, had rampaged through, and had been for some time, if the droppings were any evidence. He recognized the grumbling figure from long, long before, but still layered it as a question as he leaned against the railing, blinking against the haphazard display. “Harper?” Muffling another snort, because some part of this whole thing made him want to laugh, he jutted his jaw towards the irritating creatures. “Do you want some help?”
think about this
you have the ability to survive anything
you have the ability to survive anything
