Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
With Amhran departing, Deimos shifted back, placing the satchel over his shoulder and stretching out his limbs. He figured the demigod would be naturally curious; given how new the world was to him, and not as partial to all the horrors. A note the Sword would keep; having no intention of blighting or blotting the accords for the fledgling.Placing his hair back into a messy bun and out of the way, he snagged at the journal from his bag, retrieving the contents and flipping through a few pages. “Tumbleweed or the spiders could work. Easy to manage and maintain.” Considering the amount currently stored in the Palace – and all the dread that came along with them. He showed the variety of pages and sketches to the youth, before whistling for Belial, who’d been flying behind them – intending to use him as a scout as well from above while they remained along the ground. Thereafter, he tilted his head, awaiting a choice. “Any preference?”
