To transport some wood

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Information and rumors certainly coaxed an arch to his brow. But, as a man who’d once openly employed many of the same ilk and regards, deploying his thieves out into shadows to manifest their cloak and dagger traditions, he saw no shame in such an occupation. “A useful one, nonetheless,” with or without parents’ approvals. The mention of magic had him snorting (because he often associated lightning with Hotaru and Sah), which made Eternum one of the many Abandoned living amidst Halo’s protective walls. “There are quite a few of us with the same skills. And it takes time to hone those powers.” Glancing ahead, to where the spires of the school rose over buildings and houses, he jutted his jawline towards the sanction. “Have you thought about going to the Academy?” Belial, ever the winged, carnivorous deer, and local mischief maker, unfurled his feathers and screeched at the stranger for no real reason – other than sources of amusement. Shaking his head, Deimos kept his attention on pulling the sled and winding down another road as they conversed. The question gave him the slightest bit of pause – half-wondering how grand this man’s tactics were, if he hadn’t known who’d been leading this kingdom for several years now. “One of the Wardens of Halo.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace