DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Unaware his expression had changed at all, especially when it was tightly controlled, his brows furrowed, then arched, puzzled, perplexed, and confused. “I am not angry.” It took a lot more than ignored warnings to bombard him into fury or outrage – patient, forbearing, and tolerant through many treacherous measures. Attention sweeping back towards the burgers, since it was finally their turn, he readied a few more bones and feathers to extend out in trade, while Darkeye spoke about shrines, fighting panthers, and Kor. To Deimos’ credit, he did listen, but with his loyalties long since instilled into the Old Gods, and Safrin, here, he wasn’t certain he could follow pathways and lines to a deity that might not exist in this world. His head tilted however, while exchanges were made and food arrived on plates.
Perhaps the mood would be lifted with that, anyway. Ignoring the gnawing hunger in his stomach, he turned out of the line, waiting for Darkeye to follow, wandering down the lane for some place in shade. “I am not certain of your Kor,” he paused, gaze segmented on a bench nearby. “But how would he feel about the Voice?”
Unite and spread the heart apart
