In my stomach is butterflies

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame To hear similar words echoed back at him did cause a brief snort and a chuckle to follow, ignoring the roll of Zuriel’s eyes, as if she’d heard it a hundred times before. “I do,” he considered, pausing at the barracks again to refill the sled, hastening more bundles of the timber as Belial hovered out of the vessel, purposefully closer to Elizabeth. “It is how most of us have survived.” Fortune and luck had assisted as well, but strength and perseverance held them aloft, over the shoals and predilections of so many treacheries and nightmares. With her acceptance of future tutelage, he nodded, before turning the sled along the next street. “The Banks. They run a general store. Enormous brood of children,” which he could say with a light laugh and a snicker, having only the one, and remembering their renegade flock of five or six within the emergency shelter. “But they are kind, and always willing to lend a hand. So we do the same for them.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace