DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
“Close your eyes,” was a brief command, and maybe a warning, before snagging at the pitcher and carefully pouring it over her head. There’d been a juvenile semblance to merely using his own magic to douse her, but where they were rooting themselves into merely being alive, the mischief could wait. He watched some of the bubbles disperse into the ether, and then others were slain mercilessly as the liquid drove the shampoo outwards, rinsing and cleansing, ridding traces. He gently repeated the process, pondering over the state of affairs in the meantime. “I do not know the Halo traditions,” considering he’d never seen a wedding take place in his seasons here – perhaps they’d been private, he hadn’t been invited, or the mountainous wake forgot some of the joys too. “But I will ask Noah and see if they want any help.” Which only led to the lightest amount of foolishness contemplating into the reaches of his mind – reflections of another time, another place, another occasion.
He ended up snorting at the insinuation of him being Safrin’s Champion. “Believe that is Ronin’s job,” but nonetheless, loyalty was loyalty. Nodding along, and arching his brow at the look she gave over her shoulder, he dumped another onslaught of water for the commentary alone. “But no, we should not be remiss.” How many times had he been before – so locked and corded away in his grief?
The inquiry’s answer fanned a sigh out of his chest though, as he trickled more water down the ends of her hair, watching the liquid funnel down her spine. He understood it from Halo’s perspective: a hardy people, who gave everything and held back nothing, who fought tooth and nail to ensure they all lived and breathed for the next day, the next onslaught. He hadn’t been home long enough to hear of any chatter, to snag at any gossip, whisked away by the Evergreen as he walked through the gates, but maybe he’d ask around thereafter, once they all got back on their feet. “A shame. Maybe she will prove herself again.” Somehow, someway, to make up for the strife.
He ended up snorting at the insinuation of him being Safrin’s Champion. “Believe that is Ronin’s job,” but nonetheless, loyalty was loyalty. Nodding along, and arching his brow at the look she gave over her shoulder, he dumped another onslaught of water for the commentary alone. “But no, we should not be remiss.” How many times had he been before – so locked and corded away in his grief?
The inquiry’s answer fanned a sigh out of his chest though, as he trickled more water down the ends of her hair, watching the liquid funnel down her spine. He understood it from Halo’s perspective: a hardy people, who gave everything and held back nothing, who fought tooth and nail to ensure they all lived and breathed for the next day, the next onslaught. He hadn’t been home long enough to hear of any chatter, to snag at any gossip, whisked away by the Evergreen as he walked through the gates, but maybe he’d ask around thereafter, once they all got back on their feet. “A shame. Maybe she will prove herself again.” Somehow, someway, to make up for the strife.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
