Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Even without the words, there were emotions reeling through bonds enough to sway his eyes narrowed and mutinous; before turning his nose downwards to study other facets and sketch further. And probably sticking his tongue out at her, for very juvenile effects.Persisting in his charcoal outline of impending belts, he waited for her acceptance of the inevitable, or at least, a forthright notion to her own patterns. They could snag and laugh at his all day, but truth be told, she had some telltale signs of operations too. His cheeks dimpled at her harrumph, without an ‘I told you so’ made into the midst; silent, there in the brief instance of Attuned rites regardless. “If she is taking over the Hanged Man…,” which had its own reputation for secrets and aloofness, then it more so fit the routine.
Leaving those notions to meander where they lay, his brow arched at her notions for usefulness in battle. “And to challenge your students.” For not a day went by, he was certain, that Ru didn’t relish in surprising or outwitting them. He was much the same.
