DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
He grinned, then rose back up from his crouch, head tilting in the habitual way – either studying, contemplating, or any other predacious custom and pattern. With the treats accepted, he dusted his hands off and ensured there were several more in his pockets for Belial, otherwise he’d have to explain the absence. At the question though, he shook his head. “No. A peryton and a unicorn.”
Then, because he was either simultaneously on the move or very still, and it came in reels and fleeting moments, the Sword maneuvered outward, away from the stretched awning of the roof, and out into the elemental proportions of the grounds. From there, he glanced upward, looking along the edges and fringes for something in particular.
The notions revealed themselves quickly and efficiently – then with an outright hoot. What was once silent and motionless came into tangible fruition within a second. Obsidian deer form and matching wings against the ivory veneer always showed up, but not when his powers were used in conjunction with silence. “Well done, Belial,” he praised, and the peryton launched, flying down to land down by the soldier’s boots. With offered treats, obviously. Deimos inclined his speech towards the courier by way of narrow explanations. “He has been working on being quiet while he blends in.”
Then, because he was either simultaneously on the move or very still, and it came in reels and fleeting moments, the Sword maneuvered outward, away from the stretched awning of the roof, and out into the elemental proportions of the grounds. From there, he glanced upward, looking along the edges and fringes for something in particular.
The notions revealed themselves quickly and efficiently – then with an outright hoot. What was once silent and motionless came into tangible fruition within a second. Obsidian deer form and matching wings against the ivory veneer always showed up, but not when his powers were used in conjunction with silence. “Well done, Belial,” he praised, and the peryton launched, flying down to land down by the soldier’s boots. With offered treats, obviously. Deimos inclined his speech towards the courier by way of narrow explanations. “He has been working on being quiet while he blends in.”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
