Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
At Kiada’s interaction, Erebos continued, granting portions and pieces of conversation, before becoming distracted by his father’s hands, placing his smaller fingers against the calloused digits. Deimos snorted, thoroughly amused and besotted again, opting to gently lean his chin on top of the baby’s head. Both ignored the strikes of lightning outside; unbothered entirely.The mental image of Danta sitting there, constructing origami frogs and crows instead of doing anything politically, caused a low round of laughter too. Admittedly, he wished he could get away with such things – but given how he frequently he opted to escape out his office window – he wisely said nothing on those particulars. “As long as he uses his time wisely,” his nose wrinkled, and he winked.
Wedding plans took hold of his attention however, and his brow arched, mind settling upon aspects of Flowerbirth. “We will be there. Do you need anything before, or help setting up…,” though portions of his inquiry were answered in another form. It seemed he should’ve become a professional ring maker, given how often he was doing so, a warm laugh hovering through, intending a light tease. “Ah, I see, only summoning me for my abilities.” Given that she’d be one of the few who could get away with it, and how willingly he would’ve done so without being brought to the Grounds, his gaze flicked away from Erebos and back to her. “Do you have a design already in mind?”
