"The body is young," Phobos commented, unflinching to the sudden jolt of speed that the chariot provided. "It has taken him some time to let me through."
But secretly, Phobos was all right with this. The mortal shell was so much better than the previous ones he had. Those vessels were pathetic and boring, his current one was more like his immortal form. At least the closest Phobos had come to since their world had been forgotten. But not yet, it still lived, it always was there on the very edge of the waking world.
Hearing news of soldiers made Phobos' powers prickle along his skin. He let out a rumbling laugh and scanned over the landscape. "How boring of them to sit and wait. I think we deserve a good battle. It cane be a celebration of sorts." He smiled, snapping his fanged teeth, and looked to his father. His powers were building, the familiarity of them so good on his skin; he couldn't wait to lash out on the soldiers and hear them scream in fear.