DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Considering the local public had seen the man rampage down the streets as a hellhound on multiple occasions, unfold a rampant hide and seek game in the middle of the market, create a sledding hill and skating rink, the citizens had probably long since decided the Sword was more than a stoic figure. Protective and guarding, but certainly juvenile and impish when the mood struck him, and so he gave no bother to anyone glancing their way – though a majority would probably be to Evie regardless, considering she hadn’t been here long.
He gave a flattened look in response to her attempts at inflating his ego, which had never flickered into arrogance, but mostly the pathetic, meager venture at discrediting her capabilities. “None,” proclaimed on a rumble, and a follow-up snicker, before opening the door to the greenhouse.
They were met with the humid rush of air that Deimos had often distinguished with the Oerwoud. If he wrinkled his nose at the tropical adherence, it was only because it was well below his favored climate. Immediately shrugging off furs, and then another outer layer, he offered to take hers and placed them along hooks near the doorframe. On another notion, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, and then corded off long hair into its residual bun formation, before tilting his head, listening all the while.
Hybrid contortions he could well understand, shrugging his shoulders, giving chase to amusements rather than the underlying intonations. “Or a parrot.” Leaving those implications to her machinations, he eased forward with another devilish grin, strides going towards no fauna in particular, waiting for her to pick and choose along the unwinding paths.
He gave a flattened look in response to her attempts at inflating his ego, which had never flickered into arrogance, but mostly the pathetic, meager venture at discrediting her capabilities. “None,” proclaimed on a rumble, and a follow-up snicker, before opening the door to the greenhouse.
They were met with the humid rush of air that Deimos had often distinguished with the Oerwoud. If he wrinkled his nose at the tropical adherence, it was only because it was well below his favored climate. Immediately shrugging off furs, and then another outer layer, he offered to take hers and placed them along hooks near the doorframe. On another notion, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, and then corded off long hair into its residual bun formation, before tilting his head, listening all the while.
Hybrid contortions he could well understand, shrugging his shoulders, giving chase to amusements rather than the underlying intonations. “Or a parrot.” Leaving those implications to her machinations, he eased forward with another devilish grin, strides going towards no fauna in particular, waiting for her to pick and choose along the unwinding paths.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
