Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Cupcake math was just as important as any other multitudes, and he grinned again at Amhran’s agreeable assents. It could also be applied to all sorts; should the Raeling need any other examples or suggestions, the Sword would gladly offer explanations. Meanwhile though, Amhran would likely become a victim of hair loss if Erebos was permitted to grab fistfuls, as he often attempted. He was very content with the tossing and bouncing though, shouting out hordes of gibberish, babbles, and gleeful squeals – before extending his rattle towards the demigod, either in giving or some other subterfuge. “Looks like a trick to me,” Deimos arched his brow and watched, whispering the granted advice when he could, but incapable of reading the infant’s mind.
As long as Amhran was content with the infant though, Deimos would continue painting. “I hope so,” he snorted; deciding to ultimately start with a mixture of greens, beginning to outline rosettes over the blackened portions, intending to layer them enough so they’d rampage through the heavier Stygian.
