Stacks on stacks on stacks

and the only solution was to stand and fight

His brow arched at the stomping and modest rampage, wondering if this was going to be some impending child tantrum – Deimos hadn’t been free of them either in childhood - when he noted the joke seemed to be taking on a flame of its own. Unbothered by the exchange, and maintaining his nonchalant demeanor, his eyes flickered towards the journal, pointed and segmented. “See. What am I to do with the journal?” Grab it? Put it away? Rearrange it on the shelf?

Releasing the youth, he shook his head, awaiting the series of grunts and finger pointing to continue or meander into further explanations.

DEIMOS