Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
Belial, from his silent, quiet venture, gave off an amused snort before he finally became tangible. Maybe it was at the dragon’s failed attempt. More than likely it was due to the landshark’s flung form hurdling across the dunes – but thereafter he could feel Deimos’ sudden discomfort, and made his way down to the Sword’s side in an easygoing saunter, circling back and forth until he touched down along the sand.
Aware he was being furtive, reticent, and unobliging due to his own insecurities and traumas, the General tried his best to smother the languishing feelings back down into nothingness. Ignoring the way the warning had passed over his breath without suitable explanation, because (he didn’t want to) he’d been working diligently on not feeling worthless and disregarded, the monolith chose to regard the first statement in confusion. “Do you want it to challenge the Eirachi?” With those old mystifying stories of the winter pressing over Halo’s wake, a varnish and lacquer of too many deals forged?
And then he moved along, strides sweeping, eyes on the horizon to look for telltale alterations, or for the sulphur smell to unwind. They still had a ways to go, and he brought out his canteen by way of distraction. “You are welcome.” Features still restrained, he took a few sips while the peryton bumped his antlers against an outstretched and calloused hand.
Aware he was being furtive, reticent, and unobliging due to his own insecurities and traumas, the General tried his best to smother the languishing feelings back down into nothingness. Ignoring the way the warning had passed over his breath without suitable explanation, because (he didn’t want to) he’d been working diligently on not feeling worthless and disregarded, the monolith chose to regard the first statement in confusion. “Do you want it to challenge the Eirachi?” With those old mystifying stories of the winter pressing over Halo’s wake, a varnish and lacquer of too many deals forged?
And then he moved along, strides sweeping, eyes on the horizon to look for telltale alterations, or for the sulphur smell to unwind. They still had a ways to go, and he brought out his canteen by way of distraction. “You are welcome.” Features still restrained, he took a few sips while the peryton bumped his antlers against an outstretched and calloused hand.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
