I carried my own ashes to the mountains
His eyes narrowed again in speculation; pondering just what he’d be up against. While he might’ve been strong and capable, Deimos never once underestimated an opponent. That was how one often ended up dead - he’d seen it enough on battlefields and war frames alike. Though, at the very least, he wouldn’t have two Astaroths giving chase.
The healing magic question caught him off-guard, but he only unleashed a minor snort. “I do not.” The option hadn’t even been there for him up until a season or so ago, and even then, he wasn’t certain about being able to wield such things - he’d never been the type to mend and soothe; often the direct opposite. But he took the inquiry to mean not too much battering or maiming; he hadn’t intended to anyway.
New incantations left another brow arched, but otherwise, he began unraveling his own. The enchantments rankled and contorted under his predilections, launching forth along the earth beneath Asta’s feet, intending to rattle and throw him off-balance, to trip or stumble or merely fall.
The healing magic question caught him off-guard, but he only unleashed a minor snort. “I do not.” The option hadn’t even been there for him up until a season or so ago, and even then, he wasn’t certain about being able to wield such things - he’d never been the type to mend and soothe; often the direct opposite. But he took the inquiry to mean not too much battering or maiming; he hadn’t intended to anyway.
New incantations left another brow arched, but otherwise, he began unraveling his own. The enchantments rankled and contorted under his predilections, launching forth along the earth beneath Asta’s feet, intending to rattle and throw him off-balance, to trip or stumble or merely fall.
DEIMOS
