DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Snagging at what remained of one of the gourds, Deimos grabbed hold of the shell, and residual pulp within, and with his free hand created another container to place it in. Content with things he’d managed to snag for today, because he could certainly use this for an array of desserts, or trading when he returned to Halo, his brow quirked at Danta’s question. “Maybe,” came along in obvious juvenility and a pretense of innocence, for there didn’t seem to be anyone else around with the capability (not unless the Ancient believed some gourds could spontaneously burst into flame).
But his eyes narrowed again, and his features took on their residual stoic façade as monsters seemed to inspire compliments and curiosity. They’d lost many, some due to their own foolishness, at the hands of the demonic beings, and it remained an ever-present shadow in the back of the Sword’s mind. Sometimes for his own actions. Sometimes just for the depth of their torment. “The Ascended were supposed to have destroyed them.” Though there’d been rumors of others appearing in the following year, he hadn’t heard anything else thereafter.
But his eyes narrowed again, and his features took on their residual stoic façade as monsters seemed to inspire compliments and curiosity. They’d lost many, some due to their own foolishness, at the hands of the demonic beings, and it remained an ever-present shadow in the back of the Sword’s mind. Sometimes for his own actions. Sometimes just for the depth of their torment. “The Ascended were supposed to have destroyed them.” Though there’d been rumors of others appearing in the following year, he hadn’t heard anything else thereafter.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
