Deimos
Snorting and rolling his eyes once more, at the notions of being checked on his progress with the hundredth crib, or that a child would be working at the bar. Beyond ridiculous, he continued to fan the flames of one of the more bizarre conversations they’d ever had, though leering more into the serious, considerate aspects thereafter. “I could probably make some sort of carrier and alleviate all of this,” either on their backs or laden on their chests, tending to duties without need of checking in on cradles and bassinets.
Kiada and dinner preparation was likely not going to be difficult, given the youth’s appetite. “I doubt she is picky, but I will ask.” On another note, as if he’d forgotten amidst all the other machinations of the world around them, his tone persisted. “I did stop by the Hollowed Grounds,” and to alleviate the part of altering into those memories again, he merely continued as if it was a normal outing. “And brought back pumpkin.” Vampire gourd carcasses, essentially, but enough to make their favored autumn desserts.
That was all a distraction anyway, from what was eventual. He wandered back into silence as she adhered to crafting another s’mores, and he simply tilted his head, admiring, breathing, tending to the words in his head that he knew could be crafted better by someone far more articulate. Stringing her along with anticipation and surprise at least gave him some measure of taunting, and amusement, but softened around the edges. On a teasing mannerism, he nodded at her assurance of invisibility, opening the box slightly wide enough towards himself so she couldn’t see – before imparting gilded light from his hands, molding something into an artifact within – pulse pounding in his ears. “All right. Close your eyes.”
Kiada and dinner preparation was likely not going to be difficult, given the youth’s appetite. “I doubt she is picky, but I will ask.” On another note, as if he’d forgotten amidst all the other machinations of the world around them, his tone persisted. “I did stop by the Hollowed Grounds,” and to alleviate the part of altering into those memories again, he merely continued as if it was a normal outing. “And brought back pumpkin.” Vampire gourd carcasses, essentially, but enough to make their favored autumn desserts.
That was all a distraction anyway, from what was eventual. He wandered back into silence as she adhered to crafting another s’mores, and he simply tilted his head, admiring, breathing, tending to the words in his head that he knew could be crafted better by someone far more articulate. Stringing her along with anticipation and surprise at least gave him some measure of taunting, and amusement, but softened around the edges. On a teasing mannerism, he nodded at her assurance of invisibility, opening the box slightly wide enough towards himself so she couldn’t see – before imparting gilded light from his hands, molding something into an artifact within – pulse pounding in his ears. “All right. Close your eyes.”
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
