DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
Penning a quick note to Evie, as promised and with more assurances settled into obtaining further information, the Warden had ventured from skyports and over land – some vaguely familiar, and luring to a Thunderbird’s outstretched wings. The clamor of the elements overhead brought forth those memories, years before, of striving to reach other segments, other lands, from below, as lightning crackled and earth burnt.
In another time and place, he might’ve given over to those melancholic memories – but instead, there were other inquiries laced and layered against the rooted proportions of his machinations. Noah’s letters had been hasty, quick, and confounding, between the notes about the Grounds, heavier tasks (hadn’t he already been committed to them?), and Vi’s discontent. The uncertainties, pitted against everything he’d known about the demigod, made the situation all the more perplexing, and the only answers would be upon the wind, and along the schism of the Levinsward.
Avoiding a pitch of lightning hundreds of yards away, the Warden’s piercing gaze landed upon Noah in the distance, and he descended carefully, precisely, amidst the grasslands – altering from the massive avian and to his own broad form. Uncertain how best to approach the situation, he simply shook his head, starting from the residual greeting. “You all right?”
In another time and place, he might’ve given over to those melancholic memories – but instead, there were other inquiries laced and layered against the rooted proportions of his machinations. Noah’s letters had been hasty, quick, and confounding, between the notes about the Grounds, heavier tasks (hadn’t he already been committed to them?), and Vi’s discontent. The uncertainties, pitted against everything he’d known about the demigod, made the situation all the more perplexing, and the only answers would be upon the wind, and along the schism of the Levinsward.
Avoiding a pitch of lightning hundreds of yards away, the Warden’s piercing gaze landed upon Noah in the distance, and he descended carefully, precisely, amidst the grasslands – altering from the massive avian and to his own broad form. Uncertain how best to approach the situation, he simply shook his head, starting from the residual greeting. “You all right?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
