[se] knee deep in forest rivers

Deimos Sunjata had been renowned for his, at best, foolish plans, in the past. Remi insisting the Flood lead the charge, or the lure, didn’t surprise him, perhaps because the Lullaby knew the man would do it, but the Sword considered all of this with narrowed eyes, that turned into a widened gaze, and a measure of slow blinks, as if perhaps he hadn’t heard the entire thing correctly. Zuriel snorted, as if to inwardly acknowledge that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, and he would have to relent that there were portions of people that simply wouldn’t alter. After another long breath, in which he tied over hordes of words threatening to brim over the surface, he simply jotted something else down, unrelated to this conversation but certainly not to whatever was brimming in the water nearby (more bubbles had immersed, and perhaps a fin). The Sword managed something else altogether. “Do you have a way of evasion, if it does not go well?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime