There were indeed words printed upon the stretched skin of the octopus, and with a brief snort but otherwise somewhat still composure, he tilted his head, intending to study and snag at what he could. “Very impressive,” he countered, as if to extend the compliment to the creature too. Can you show us? he asked towards the being, and perhaps on kindness or merely the gentle cajoling of Attuned proportions, he watched as one tentacle extended towards them.
Deimos had only been to the Undercroft once; in a time and venture so far gone from his current roots that the diction inscribed across didn’t spark any recognition initially. But there, assembled and simplistic, was scrawl from the Fae, dotted and lined and known to few. “How could that come to be,” he wondered and marveled out loud, but with a boyish smile still kindled across his face. "Can you make any sense of it?"
Deimos had only been to the Undercroft once; in a time and venture so far gone from his current roots that the diction inscribed across didn’t spark any recognition initially. But there, assembled and simplistic, was scrawl from the Fae, dotted and lined and known to few. “How could that come to be,” he wondered and marveled out loud, but with a boyish smile still kindled across his face. "Can you make any sense of it?"
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
