DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Efficient in his ministrations, the restlessness beckoning over the ridges of his spine ceased for a moment at another’s voice – head turning abruptly to see Alys, and then an ursur cub nearby. For half a moment, he looked back and forth between the pair without saying anything, analyzing the scruples, possibilities, tangents, and then glancing outward to see if there had been some monumental event (like a mother ursur striving to claim her child) he’d missed. “Morning,” he murmured, eerily calm and stoic, attempting to place logical means in between everything else calculating and whirling around him.
Somewhere, above, Belial screeched.
“If you want,” he offered instead, magic shifting again and ensuring more of the snow lifted from the road. When no explanation came, the curiosity and bizarreness of the situation overcame the residual reticence, and he pointed down at the youth. “Who is this?”
Somewhere, above, Belial screeched.
“If you want,” he offered instead, magic shifting again and ensuring more of the snow lifted from the road. When no explanation came, the curiosity and bizarreness of the situation overcame the residual reticence, and he pointed down at the youth. “Who is this?”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
