DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Deimos snorted at the insinuation, mostly because of the past year and Morgan’s ridiculous antics. “And she would have to use the front gates instead,” came on a sarcastic grumble, but meant to be with facetious, bemused tones. Cold, darker humor was a bit of a crutch, but he’d rather yield to that then relive the series of events that had ensured Halo crumbled into something inactive and dormant, rather than the thriving, enduring foothold it could’ve, should’ve, been. At the notions he hadn’t been the only one to hear something, he rose from the stone steps, immediately beginning to wander in the direction of the noise. “No.” His brows furrowed, bending and lending to curiosity, tracing slower, methodical footfalls over the length of obsidian stone. Maybe it was slightly beyond the shrine, cast about in shadow? But all he saw as he ventured closer was a pool of lava, clinging to one of the sides of the wall.
Unite and spread the heart apart
