Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
The Hollowed Grounds always held a sort of bitter threshold over his memories, even if he strived to force them away. Too many circumstances, misfortunes, diseases, and deaths had rallied against anything peaceful and content behind barriers, and even when they unfurled and lowered, it still had been a grating, unending volley. He offered none of these fragments to Amhran – who didn’t need those piles of experiences to add to a world still unraveling before him. Instead, they flew and glided along his bakunawa prowess this time, bag dangling from his mouth, on a promise that not every creature they came across would be deterred and destroyed.
Snagged, perhaps – given their current quest.
They reached the Outer Brambles, and his keen gaze settled upon the outstretch of familiar land – the rise of the hill, the labyrinth in the distance, the structure of the glade. Instead of churning in his melancholy though, there were other things to peruse and find, and he stretched his large form over to the edge of the terrain, so the demigod could depart from his back.
