creatures of contradictions

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Despite any earlier fumblings or the unknown expanse, the three (or four, if including the dragon ahead), had managed to regard the foxes in a singular harmony. Nothing seemed to bother the wayward foxes as they marched and wandered about, stocking up on their food supplies or hastening to stretch, join, and play amidst their brethren. Deimos, from beneath his cloak and sitting amidst the field, had to muffle several snorts of amusement as one collided with another, or rolled off down the side of another knoll out of youthful foolishness. He took notes, quietly gliding the charcoal across the open parchment of his journal, listing off the numbers, the outcries, the way they hoarded and lived together, applying it all to their monster hunter parameters, wondering if they’d bother with these creatures at all. Hardly a threat, and more of an addition to a populace striving to unfurl from war and ice. Only then did one seem to take the opportunity of Talyson’s closeness – or the wind had shifted, permitting the courier’s scent to drift their way. The Sword grew very still in his own respects, watching as one little kit ambled near, darting towards where the Natural remained. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace