DEIMOS
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The thunder of the drums dictates
He snorted at the insinuation of loud and colorful, in attempts to win over the Halo public and crowd. Maybe it would work – and the energy, the flames, Aisha brought forth would be enough to intrigue and polish interest, ensure a rise in factions and organizations, a hustling, bustling community with more to offer and prevail upon. The mountains were quiet, and the people were survivors, but there was more to see, more to do, than tuck themselves away, bridge into isolation.
A thought for himself too, perhaps.
The monolith broke apart pieces of bread and left them on the plate, save for one he snagged, tilting his head vaguely as he chewed. Another light snort insinuated at the self-deprecation. “I presume you will not be drunk during this task.” He wouldn’t be tipsy either – forged and strong, instead of inattentive, unfocused, and stupidly bemused. It’d been an amusing time, despite the trials or tribulations the mess had tarnished and contorted – worth it, even if he’d still been finding paint in portions of his beard hours later. “What sort of building are you looking for?”
A thought for himself too, perhaps.
The monolith broke apart pieces of bread and left them on the plate, save for one he snagged, tilting his head vaguely as he chewed. Another light snort insinuated at the self-deprecation. “I presume you will not be drunk during this task.” He wouldn’t be tipsy either – forged and strong, instead of inattentive, unfocused, and stupidly bemused. It’d been an amusing time, despite the trials or tribulations the mess had tarnished and contorted – worth it, even if he’d still been finding paint in portions of his beard hours later. “What sort of building are you looking for?”
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead
The rising of the horns, ahead
