DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
He'd forgotten about the chatter, and never one to fill the void with idle conversation or dialogue, he strolled down the hall with vague nods and inclinations, trying to piece together all the remnants quickly. As he crouched near the hearth, tending to the fire with a single motion and thought, he turned back to her, angling and jutting his jawline towards the long table, his desk, and the various other assortments of chairs. Along the walls were his own created maps, though most of Halo, with broadened surfaces of terrain and a variety of tacks stuck into them for his own purposes, musings, and upcoming projects. Shelves were lined with organized folders and tomes, all strictly for training, weaponry, and various other related diagrams.
Figuring she’d want to use the table to unfurl the charts and plots, he inclined towards that direction. “You are welcome,” he uttered eventually, uncertain about it entirely – but it seemed to have kept her alive.
Glancing at the work she’d already compiled, he recognized the Oerwoud instantly, snorting at the water horse along the side. “It made an impression.”
Figuring she’d want to use the table to unfurl the charts and plots, he inclined towards that direction. “You are welcome,” he uttered eventually, uncertain about it entirely – but it seemed to have kept her alive.
Glancing at the work she’d already compiled, he recognized the Oerwoud instantly, snorting at the water horse along the side. “It made an impression.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
