Deimos
The moment they stepped along the tundra, the predacious pull, the willingness to unravel flesh and blood and bone into something animalistic, drummed along his blood. A vivid pulse, a familiar edge, the way knives eternally held serrated fringes, contorted and rippled along his mind. It would’ve been very easy to disentangle into a hound’s presence, to pull apart the coils and contorted knots and gnarls, claws digging into the surface of the world, spreading across the outsets with reckless abandon.
The only thing tempering the notions was Evie – no yearning to leave her behind as he rampaged across the earth. Instead, his long sweeping strides held the familiarity from multiple worlds, head held high into the winds, never dismayed by the chill of the wind; only tilting to listen, that telltale arch of his brow silently yielding to curiosity as she sought the inclinations of the shrine, with all its baubles and glass.
The Sword pulled nothing out at first – more inclined to snag and take in the designations, gaze sweeping from the crafted, metallic shapes, and back to the Evergreen herself. Hands snagged, he nearly snorted at the abruptness, and the sudden excitement, until the reality of why erupted into clarity.
Because she had strived, and tried, and sometimes that seemed to be more than enough. “Congratulations,” on a broad smile and then a touch of his forehead to hers, shared plumes of breath. “And what did Frey say?”
The only thing tempering the notions was Evie – no yearning to leave her behind as he rampaged across the earth. Instead, his long sweeping strides held the familiarity from multiple worlds, head held high into the winds, never dismayed by the chill of the wind; only tilting to listen, that telltale arch of his brow silently yielding to curiosity as she sought the inclinations of the shrine, with all its baubles and glass.
The Sword pulled nothing out at first – more inclined to snag and take in the designations, gaze sweeping from the crafted, metallic shapes, and back to the Evergreen herself. Hands snagged, he nearly snorted at the abruptness, and the sudden excitement, until the reality of why erupted into clarity.
Because she had strived, and tried, and sometimes that seemed to be more than enough. “Congratulations,” on a broad smile and then a touch of his forehead to hers, shared plumes of breath. “And what did Frey say?”
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
