[PQ+] [se] sifts of grains

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Mrs. Took nodded, seemingly content with the notions at hand. While the rest of them worked, Deimos continued to add to the back of the woman’s pile here and there, little portions and pieces so in the end, it should’ve been equal amounts. He made sure to wink and smirk in Elizabeth ‘s direction, ensuring he knew exactly what she’d been through (a rite of passage in Halo, apparently), and how to rectify the situation. To Sah as well, for not tattling.

When they’d all parsed through their shoveling, save for Mrs. Took, who was still slowly and painstakingly going through her fake-injury nonsense and blathering about something that Deimos was ignoring, the Sword nodded at his constituents. “There you are, ma’am. We have done our parts, and most move on now, unfortunately.” Tipping his head respectfully, he glanced at Sah and Elizabeth in turn, in a motion of time to move before the butcher’s wife could begin spouting again.

So they’d leave her in a pocket of snow and ice of her own making, Deimos already taking out his list. “Sorry about her,” he mentioned with a shrug, because she was simply a heathen and there wasn’t much else to it. “We can head over to the Cooper’s Bakery for a break, and then see what they need done. Something about the ice getting into their siding.”

--

Flee and/or complain about Mrs. Took, and head to the bakery with Deimos.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I