DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
The Sword had seen enough wars in several lifetimes, and rarely discussed any of them. With campaigns and crusades came the unwinding of protection, the need to shield and shelter, the dedication and determination in ensuring an enemy’s demise – but so too came the notions of loss. And for most of them, no matter how hard they’d fought, a manner of pride didn’t reel across their shoulders. They’d fought for their lives, and others had paid the price. Some were monsters. Some were friends.
Maybe the fringes of peace and repose left him restless, but he also didn’t mind not rushing headlong into some other bestial wake. Instead, he, Evie, and Noah watched tirelessly over Halo, striving for its success not just in defenses, but quality of life. He arched a brow at the youth’s musing, nodding in accord. “The Nature side of Frey has given us many things,” and they’d completed the tasks willingly, earnestly.
At the inquiry though, his reticence obliged a little more of a crook of a grin in the corner of his mouth; pondering if Sohalia would be serious about such circumstances. She struck him as an individual who leapt into boundaries without much preamble. “It is always wise to be cautious.” His brow arched, pondering if she’d take the meaning. “There are many new flora and fauna we do not know much about yet.” Shifting towards Zuriel’s saddlebags, he snagged at a journal tucked away. “I have been taking notes of ones my guild has encountered.”
Maybe the fringes of peace and repose left him restless, but he also didn’t mind not rushing headlong into some other bestial wake. Instead, he, Evie, and Noah watched tirelessly over Halo, striving for its success not just in defenses, but quality of life. He arched a brow at the youth’s musing, nodding in accord. “The Nature side of Frey has given us many things,” and they’d completed the tasks willingly, earnestly.
At the inquiry though, his reticence obliged a little more of a crook of a grin in the corner of his mouth; pondering if Sohalia would be serious about such circumstances. She struck him as an individual who leapt into boundaries without much preamble. “It is always wise to be cautious.” His brow arched, pondering if she’d take the meaning. “There are many new flora and fauna we do not know much about yet.” Shifting towards Zuriel’s saddlebags, he snagged at a journal tucked away. “I have been taking notes of ones my guild has encountered.”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
