DEIMOS
Maybe it’s not too late accompanied gurgles, pleas, and deep, sardonic laughter – instincts crawled over his senses, coiled into his chest. What on earth were they doing? “Maybe it is,” he murmured, a low reverberation, the uncertainty and apprehension in the air pooling around them in waves. His blade was still drawn, the intricacies of his enchantments searing along his skin, but this seemed wrong – an obvious wrong, instead of screams and shouts and outright begging, echoes of last year’s throngs. He was nearly in agreement with Adam, but also figured it was a lost cause, Remi’s policy pervading even in his absence, strength accorded even as confidence began to erode into the barbaric twists and turns of possibilities. His jaw clenched, waiting, waiting, waiting for the press of the inevitable, of the foreboding, of the monsters laden within.Perhaps he was wrong. He hoped so.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
