the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
Seeming satisfied as Erebos returns to munching on his rattle - it isn't cake but it will certainly do for now, he determines - Amhran glances back across at the sound of Deimos's voice, his smile warm and earnest in response to the compliment. "Thank you for saying so," he says. "Though I cannot imagine anyone not doing well with him. He is a delight, is he not?" Chuckling and bouncing Erebos gently on his knee, he nods his agreement at the ongoing plan and the need to hide the paintings from any excitable, prying eyes.
"I have never been to the barracks," he confesses. Not wanting to get in the way of Deimos's cleaning but also knowing better than to help with an armful of chaos, Amhran carefully scoops the infant up into his arms properly and gets to his feet so the Sword might clear away the evidence of their artistry. "Is it a good place to hide things like this, do you think? I can help take them if you need, or I can keep watching Erebos."
"I have never been to the barracks," he confesses. Not wanting to get in the way of Deimos's cleaning but also knowing better than to help with an armful of chaos, Amhran carefully scoops the infant up into his arms properly and gets to his feet so the Sword might clear away the evidence of their artistry. "Is it a good place to hide things like this, do you think? I can help take them if you need, or I can keep watching Erebos."
